The Lost Warlock
by Loopstagirl
Summary: All Merlin wanted was to be able to fit in and make himself feel welcomed in his own home. He didn't understand why he had to hide... At least, he didn't understand until it was far too late. Then he understood all too well. Sequel to the Lost Prince.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.**

**Back again with another one. This is set after The Lost Prince, so things might be a bit clearer if you read that one first. Not necessary, you'll just have to be aware of a few facts; like that Arthur and Merlin have already met in this, despite it being a young one. Please bear in mind throughout this that Merlin is only 13. His reactions/his magic is not going to be the same as what we are first introduced to on the show.**

**Hope you like! Don't forget to let me know!**

It was a bright and sunny day in Ealdor, and most of the residents were either enjoying the river or trying to keep cool indoors. Children could be heard splashing and screaming with laughter as they played under the watchful eyes of their mothers. But as warnings were called to not go too far, even the women had smiles on their faces. The crops had done well this year and the weather was just adding a sense of happiness in the whole place.

One thirteen year old, however, was not joining in the fun. His lanky limbs folded awkwardly in order to be able to balance himself up his favourite tree, Merlin idly plucked a leaf off a nearby stem and rolled it between his fingers, thinking. Part of him wanted to be down there with the other boys his age, but he knew that Will would be the only one to accept him. The others wouldn't say anything as such, but the game would turn rough and he would be the one covered in mud by the end of the day with his ears ringing with their taunts. After what had happened with Gareth the last time as well, Merlin knew he couldn't risk it.

He hadn't meant for his magic to lash out like that and trip the boy up, he really hadn't. Merlin knew it was only luck that meant none of the others had seen what had truly happened, although Will had shot him a speculative look that had made Merlin squirm and look at his feet. His mother, however, had chosen that moment to pass by, and seemed to know exactly why Gareth was sprawled at the edge of the pig pen covered in who knows what. She had given him such a scolding that Merlin still felt tears prick his eyes if he thought about it now, allowed her wooden spoon to connect with the back of his legs and then pulled him into a fierce hug, her own eyes swimming with tears as she murmured reassurances in his ear.

There was nothing more confusing than being the one the other boys picked on, and knowing that they were actually right about him being different. His mother told him that he just had to put up with it, go along with what was happening and not rise to their baiting, for if the rest of the village found out what he could do, it would be worse than a few mocking comments. But it was just so _hard_. Half the time he didn't even choose to use his magic, it just came rushing out by itself, almost as if he couldn't control it even if he wanted to. That was the problem: he didn't want to. Why should he be the one to be picked on? How many of them could say that they had saved a prince?

Not that Merlin truly remembered that much of what had happened the time that Arthur Pendragon had been found at the edge of their village. He couldn't even remember what the other boy was like, only knew that he was a few years older than Merlin himself. The image of blond hair and blue eyes swam in Merlin's mind if he thought about it hard enough, but he wasn't sure. He would almost be a man now, and probably have everyone telling him how wonderful he was. Scowling, Merlin let go of his leaf and let it float down to the ground lazily. It just wasn't fair, he had to hide whilst people like Arthur only had to get out of bed in the morning in order to be praised. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to blame Arthur. The memories he did have seemed to be of someone scared and vulnerable, not at all acting like a prince.

"Merlin? Merlin, where are you, child?" Hearing his mother calling his name, Merlin risked a glance through the branches, only just being able to steady himself with his free hand whilst he did so. Knowing his luck, he would go toppling out and land at her feet instead of being able to hide properly. He could just make out the woman, standing almost directly below him with her hands on her hips whilst she looked around. Merlin knew full well what she was going to say, it was the same as every other time she caught him on his own. That he had to try and fit in, meaning that she would expect him to join in with the games that the other boys were playing. Craning his head back, Merlin could see them splashing each other in the river and sighed, pulling himself further back into the trunk of the tree. Not only did the tree offer him a place away from prying eyes, it had become something of a safe haven over the years. He knew full that it wouldn't stay as playful splashing if he should join in with the others, but more like who could get the closest to drowning him whilst pretending it was a game.

"Merlin?!" Said child was forced to bite his lip to stop himself from answering his mother. He knew that she only wanted what was best for him, but Merlin was at the awkward stage between man and boy. He wanted to be able to prove himself, but the only way he knew how was forbidden. He wanted to show that he was powerful, that they were picking on the wrong person. He wanted to go to Camelot and find Arthur, find someone that... No, not even Arthur would understand. Merlin may not remember much from those few days, but he did know the prince didn't know about his magic. From the stories he had heard about the King, Arthur was the last person he would be able to tell. Tears of frustration burnt at the corners of his eyes as his fingers gripped onto the bark far harder than necessary as he tried to stop himself crying.

"Merlin?" Jumping, Merlin slipped, grabbing onto the branch just in time to stop him from falling out of the tree. Whilst his mother's voice had still been in the same place, her tone had changed. No longer was she simply calling him in order to locate where her son was, but she was calling him down. Looking down again, Merlin winced slightly as he met her eyes. She knew precisely where he was. But it also meant that she knew he would have heard her original calls and the fact that he hadn't responded simply implied that he had been ignoring her. Merlin flushed slightly, knowing that he had been well and truly caught out.

"Merlin, come down." Despite knowing that there was no arguing with her when she used that tone of voice, Merlin still shook his head. He couldn't help it. Up here, he could think, he could even get away with using magic. He didn't want to go back down there and listen to their jeering comments again. Hidden away in the safety of the tree, he could be himself without anyone telling him off. After all, the birds and the insects didn't seem to mind if he used magic.

"I like it up here." He protested, realising that his argument sounded weak even to him. Even from his awkward angle, he could see the way her eyebrows rose and sighed heavily. "Please let me stay up here?"

"Come down, love." Biting his lip, Merlin carefully navigated himself further forward. He knew if he didn't do what she said, she would just go and get Matthew and his ladder. It had happened before; although Merlin hadn't hit his latest growth spurt the last time he had refused to come down from his tree. He almost fell the last part, scraping his leg up the bark of the tree as he scrambled for a hold, but eventually, Merlin was back on solid ground again.

"What were you doing up there, Merlin?" Whilst Hunith was sounding inquisitive, Merlin recognised the note in her voice. It was as if she knew that he was hiding, but just wanted to be able to hear her son say it out loud. Merlin, however, didn't want to play that game and simply shrugged, dragging his toe through the dirt and getting his boots filthy in the process.

"Merlin."

"I was just thinking!" Merlin practically yelled, immediately blushing when she looked at him disapprovingly. He was as tall as she was now, and he knew that he hadn't yet stopped growing. But regardless of his height, his mother still had a way of making him feel small and young.

"You promised me that you would try harder. You know how dangerous it is for you if they isolate you." Hunith muttered under her breath, taking a step closer and brushing Merlin's hair away from his eyes. Merlin's flush only deepened.

"I meant it, I am trying. But...Harold tried to push me in earlier. It's alright for them, they can just go home and change. But these are the only ones that fit me now, Mother. I'm fed up of being their target." Merlin made sure he kept his voice low as he spoke. If anyone overheard him, it would sound nothing more than a teenager whining. But the more frustrated with the whole situation Merlin become, the more his magic acted out. It was like it was a teenager itself, wanting to let the world know how unfair it was that he had to stay hidden away.

"Come on then, love. I need to go and fetch some berries if you want pudding tonight with your supper. Why don't you come up there with me?" Merlin smiled and nodded, thankful that she didn't seem to be too upset. Either that, or she knew commenting on their lack of clothing because of funds would just get her teenage son even more frustrated. Merlin didn't understand why he had all of these powers if he couldn't even get them some of the basic things that they needed.

Hunith took Merlin by the elbow and mother and son swiftly climbed a nearby hill. Not that Merlin remembered, but Hunith would never forget the sight of a terrified prince peering back at them from the undergrowth. All Merlin knew was that it got him away from everyone, but gave him a legitimate reason to do so. He took his mother's hand, resting it on his arm the way he knew a knight would escort a proper lady as he led the way to the hill, ignoring the laughs coming from the boys behind him. They reached the spot and Hunith handed Merlin a small basket, a knowing smile on her lips. Merlin took it with a grin – his mother clearly knew that she wouldn't have been coming up here alone.

The pair began gathering the berries, a comfortable silence between them now that they were away from people watching Merlin's every move. He knew that he had been careless lately, but he couldn't help it. His magic had been acting out, and he couldn't seem to stop it.

"Merlin, I received word from Gaius the other day." Merlin's face lit up at his mother's words and he almost instantly turned towards her.

"Arthur?" The look on her face said enough. There had been no word from the prince. His face fell as quickly as it had brightened and he nodded softly, turning back to his bush. He didn't see the expression on his mother's face, but nor did he need to. It would only be the same as every other time they had received word from Camelot.

"Merlin..."

"Don't. He was just busy, that's all." Merlin didn't want to see the sorrowful look in her eyes. Didn't want to hear her say that Arthur had just moved on. She knew how much it frustrated young Will that Merlin still claimed that his best friend was a boy he didn't truly remember and had only seen for a few days. She couldn't deny that there had been a bond between them, something that she could almost feel in the air. She had no doubt that Merlin and Arthur would meet again, but this constant hope of Merlin's was worrying her.

It had been almost six years. Six years and there had only been one message from the prince, a week after he had left them. Merlin was still clinging to the hope that someone he could no longer describe would come back for him and that they would be able to have adventures together in the way that Merlin didn't feel like he could do with the other boys. His gift hadn't been such a problem when he had been a child, but now that he was more conscious of the magic, it was proving to be a problem. It isolated him from the others, and his constant need for care meant that they saw him as not being as courageous as the rest of them. Hunith knew that her boy was braver than the lot of them put together, but telling that to a thirteen year old didn't go down too well. Instead, Merlin had idolised Arthur in his mind, making the boy out to be a perfect friend despite the fact that they barely even knew each other.

"Merlin..."

"No, Mother."

"Merlin!" Merlin whirled around at hearing her final scream, his breath catching in his throat as he saw two large thuggish looking men emerging from the forest. His heart was pounding hard as he immediately dropped his basket, stumbling towards Hunith in the same movement. He might have been trying to act grown up, but he was still a child. He didn't know how he was supposed to act when one of them ran a thumb along a cruel looking blade hanging from the belt at his waist. His mother grabbed his hand as soon as he was in reach, pulling him close to her as the men sneered.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be out here with just a whelp for protection." One leered, coming closer as he spoke. Merlin glared, but the man moved too fast, grabbing Hunith even as her son tried to hold onto her. The other just laughed, moving forward himself and kneeing the boy in the stomach. One muscular arm crossed over Merlin's chest, holding him back with ease even as he struggled to both get free and get to his mother. Merlin didn't quite understand what was happening, not understanding the sheer terror in his mother's eyes as the other man began tugging at her clothing, but he did know that something was wrong.

"Let my son go."

"Why would we want to do that?" The man sneered, pulling Hunith closer by wrapping his arm around her waist. Merlin felt a fury he didn't know he could possess awaken within him and he snarled.

"Let her go!" He growled, tugging at the man holding him. Despite the fact that he was a skinny thirteen year old against a man at least four times his size didn't even cross his mind. He was angry. For the first time ever, he made absolutely no attempt to hold his magic back and could already feeling it leaking out of him.

"Merlin, no!" The boy didn't hear his mother's scream as his eyes fell shut. When they opened again, their normal blue had gone, replaced with a burning gold. He could almost feel the magic humming in the air, making him feel more alive than he had ever done. He felt powerful for the first time ever, and this time, he wasn't going to be pushed around like he was a nobody. No one hurt his mother, no one put that look in her eye and got away with it.

"What the hell..?" The man holding Hunith backed off a step, allowing the woman to pull herself free. He stumbled backwards at the look in the child's eye, but before he could go any further, he was blasted off his feet. At exactly the same time, the man holding Merlin let go with a howl of pain, clutching his arm to him. Merlin took a step forward, his eyes still blazing as he turned to look at his attacker. He didn't even need to look to see the fierce burn running across the man's arm from where it had been in contact with the warlock.

"No one calls me a whelp." Despite the fact that his voice was significantly higher than the men's and therefore did hold the same weight, there could be no denying that Merlin sounded more than threatening as his eyes continued to burn. The power was racing through him stronger than he knew it could do and he could feel it burning out of his eyes. The two men looked at each other, glanced towards Merlin and raced for the trees.

The problem was, Merlin wasn't used to this kind of power, and could already feel a low throb in his head from where the magic was attempting to take over him. His eyes flickered slightly, a slither of blue showing through as he tried to pull the magic back in, his head steadily getting worse and beginning to affect his vision. He was vaguely aware of his mother hurrying forward, her hands on his shoulders and he could have sworn that someone was yelling his name. But even as his vision seemed to lurch and make everything appear double, a ringing started up in his ears, causing any sound to seem muffled and almost muted. The young warlock blinked, and just like that, the magic vanished.

"Are you okay?" Merlin asked his mother, his voice completely calm and neutral. Her face was pale as she simply stared at him, and Merlin couldn't figure out why she would look so scared.

Then he collapsed.

* * *

It was dark when Merlin awoke again, and it took him a few moments to realise that he was lying on the only bed that they had in their house. A candle was standing next to the bed, the flickering flame hypnotising him for a few moments. Trying to make sense of what had happened and how on earth he had ended up back at home, Merlin was hard pressed to hold back the groan that attempted to force its way past his lips. His head was pounding and even looking at the candle sent shooting pains through his skull.

After taking a few deep breaths, however, the teenager was able to bring himself under control a little more. It was only then that he realised that there was a soft murmur of voices coming from behind a rough curtain that had been drawn around the bed to give him some privacy. Making sure that he didn't move and therefore alert whoever it was to the fact that he was awake, Merlin almost held his breath as he listened as hard as he could.

"...not sure, never this strong."

"He is young, he will be able to handle it."

"His magic has never made him lose consciousness before though." Forgetting about not moving, Merlin sat bolt upright, his heart pounding hard even as his head throbbed its protest at the movement. That had been his mother's voice, of that he was certain. But he was as equally sure that she had been talking to Matthew. About his magic.

Merlin couldn't stop the flash of anger shooting through him, injustice burning through his very being in the way that only a thirteen year old could. She had spent his entire life telling him that no one could know about his magic, what he could do...and all along, Matthew had known. In a way, Merlin didn't mind, the man was almost like an uncle to him and never treated him any differently to the rest of the children. But that wasn't the point.

Slipping silently off the bed, Merlin had to grip onto it tightly to stop his legs from buckling underneath him. Whatever his magic had done to try and protect them had certainly taken it out of him more than he was used to, and even standing up seemed to be a great deal of effort. Somehow though, he managed to take a few steps closer to the curtain.

"I just don't know what to do with him. I think I'm going to have to send him to Gaius. He won't join in, he won't let what happened all those years ago go, just seems to think that Arthur will be waiting for him to be friends the way they were before. He's a _prince_, Matthew, he probably doesn't even remember that Merlin exists. They were just children, he wouldn't dwell on what happened. Yet I can't get Merlin to let it go."

Despite the effort it had taken him to get off the bed, Merlin found that his knees were threatening to give way and he only just made it back to it in time. Never before had he truly felt like he had been betrayed, but his mother's words were ringing sharply in his ears. Arthur didn't even remember him? He didn't remember what had happened? Tears stung at his eyes and Merlin was pulling on his boots before he even registered what he was doing.

He had had enough. No one here wanted him to be here, even his own mother wanted to send him away. The other boys picked on him, and the one friend that he thought he had didn't even remember that he existed. He had been taught to keep his magic a secret only for his mother to tell whoever she liked without his permission? There was no way that Merlin would be able to stay here. He was going to head to the forest, he was going to do something with his life that didn't involve other people telling him what to do. He had his magic to protect him.

Determined and adamant that he was making the right decision, Merlin pulled his boots towards him, freezing when it caught the leg of the small table and the whole thing wobbled, causing the candle to flicker ominously. There was a slight dip in the voices, and Merlin knew that if he was going to have any chance of doing this, it had to be now. Pulling on his boots, he climbed over the bed and headed towards the back door. Yanking it open, Merlin took one look back into the house and started to run. The door banged shut violently behind him and the child could almost instantly hear voices calling his name.

Regardless of the sounds of pursuit, Merlin hurtled up the hill, heading towards the cover of the trees. He knew his way well enough around this area despite the fact that it was dark, but he knew that once he was in the forest, he would be able to hide properly. Forgetting that Matthew was twice his size, Merlin had truly thought that he had made it when a hand caught hold of his arm, yanking him to a stop.

"Merlin, stop! You have to come back now." Up until now, Merlin had always trusted Matthew, always looked up to him in the same way that he assumed most boys looked up to their fathers. But all he knew right now was that the man knew his secret, and therefore he had been lying.

"Get off me!" Trying to pull away, Merlin fought with all his might as Matthew bent down, clearly preparing to put the young teenager over his shoulder.

"Stop it. You're upsetting your mother."

"She doesn't care! She wants to send me away!" Hating the fact that his voice broke halfway through his sentence into something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Merlin continued to fight. As Matthew let his arm settle around the back of Merlin's legs, bracing himself as he did so, Merlin kicked out. His foot connected with Matthew's shin and the warlock's eyes flashed in the darkness. Matthew knew his secret, meaning Merlin didn't have to hide any more. His magic made him cry out as it made more pain shoot through his head. Although it wasn't with the same force that he had lashed out at the bandits with, it was still enough for Matthew to be sent stumbling backwards, slipping on the uneven ground.

Merlin didn't wait to see if the man was okay or not, but instead just turned and ran. He let his feet carry him blindly, knowing that getting lost was all part of the plan. After all, if he didn't know where he was, then how would anyone else be able to tell? The moonlight was just about filtering through the trees, and Merlin found that he was instinctively following the patterns they were leaving on the floor, as if that was his guide.

He was aching, his head hurt and he was more confused and hurt than he had ever been in his life, yet Merlin didn't let himself stop running. He had no idea how long it would be until Matthew got some of the other men and they came in after him. He knew that he wouldn't be given the chance to use magic again, and that he would be dragged back to face the consequences of his actions. The thought of his mother's anger at what he had done gave Merlin another burst of speed. Part of him was tugging him back towards Ealdor, telling him that he was making a mistake and that this had all just been a misunderstanding. But the larger part of him, the teenage warlock part, adamantly kept putting one foot in front of the other, getting as far away as he could.

Despite his determination, Merlin could only go so far until he skidded to a stop, his skinny chest heaving as he tried to suck in enough air to stop him feeling like he was going to pass out. As soon as his breathing began to get slightly under control once more, the boy felt the first tendrils of fear began to nag away at him. He now truly had no idea where he was, and the forest in the dark on his own was a scary place for a thirteen year old.

Squinting through the trees, Merlin frowned. He was sure he could see some sort of light just ahead, something that looked like a fire. Wondering if it would mean he could find someone to help (although whether to find his way back to Ealdor or get as far away as possible, Merlin wasn't sure), the boy headed slowly in that direction. He didn't even stop to think about how that could have been a very bad idea until he was stumbling into the clearing and finding himself face to face with one of the men that had attacked him earlier.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little sorcerer." The man spat, the knife ending up in his hand before Merlin could even blink. He didn't know where the other man was until hands grabbed him from behind. The man's hands slipped under his shoulders, holding his arms fast and rendering him useless even as Merlin struggled. He tried to bring his magic to the surface, but all that he got in response was a thumping head.

"We should kill you for what you did." Merlin's sharp intake of breath, fear obvious in his eyes made the man laugh.

"But instead, I reckon we could get a good price for you somewhere. Bind his hands."

"No! No, don't..." Merlin yelled, but his words did nothing as he was pushed to his knees. He knew that he was crying, but couldn't find it in himself to care as the man holding him drew his arms behind him and stared lashing his hands together with a coarse piece of rope. Instead, Merlin's mind was racing as he tried to find a way out of his predicament. Just in the nick of time, he felt a spark of magic once again and allowed his eyes to flash, causing the fire to jump up with an angry hiss. The man tying him up jumped back with a curse, and Merlin quickly pulled his hand free before he could finish off the knots.

"Who _are_ you, kid?"

"Someone who wants to join you." As soon as he uttered the words, Merlin suddenly felt a lot older. He didn't want people to tell him what he could and couldn't do, that was why he had left. So what better way than living outside of the law? He was already an outcast because of his magic, why shouldn't he make it more permanent?

"Excuse me?"

"You've seen what I can do. That was just a taste," Merlin lied, knowing it was potentially the only thing that was stopping him from being killed or sold into slavery. "Just think of what you can do if I help you."

"Very well." Merlin didn't really recognise the look on the man's face, didn't realise that he was being humoured. "But you should know that you have to earn your place." The bandit winked at his friend even as Merlin nodded.

"I'll prove myself to you." He promised, unable to stop himself from smiling at the thought that he had just found somewhere he could be himself and not have to worry about it.

"Good boy. Now your first job, clean these." With those words, the man tossed over a pair of filthy boots and an equally dirty rag. Merlin frowned, but then realised that the man's hand was once again resting on his knife and his friend was standing directly behind where Merlin was kneeling.

Nodding, he picked both items up, wondering what he was doing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the support and reviews on the first chapter, it means a lot.**

Merlin huddled miserably under a tree, the leafy canopy above his head doing nothing to stop the rain hitting him and trickling down the back of his shirt. He was cold, wet and hungry, not to mention exhausted. He thought that he had done so well when he had told the bandits that he was joining them, truly believing the fact that because they knew about his magic, and had even been on the receiving end of his power, they would accept him. They wouldn't see him as just as skinny child who wanted to find his place in the world, but someone that could make a difference.

Unfortunately, despite the hardships of growing up in a poor village and having very little, Merlin had led a sheltered life. He didn't quite appreciate that these men already had everything that they wanted, or contemplate the fact that they might not be working alone. He simply had no idea that he had just offered himself up to them to use as they wish.

Yet that was precisely what they did. Harg and Dantor had him cooking, cleaning their swords, boots, clothes – anything they could get their hands on. He even had to spend an entire night polishing some of their gold, even though he practically rubbed his hands raw in the process. Whilst they took turns in getting sleep – one of them always staying on watch – Merlin had to prepare their food, collect more firewood and water and to keep the fire burning throughout the night. Three days since he had run away, and yet he had managed to catch no more than a few hours sleep. The only food they had allowed him to have was what he could scrape out of the pot when they had finished eating. After only a day, Merlin had tried to leave, but Harg had caught up with him in just a few steps. The man had backhanded him so hard that Merlin had felt his ears ring for hours afterwards, and just like any other frightened child would do, he hadn't even thought of using magic, but had just agreed to do what they told him in order to make sure that he didn't get hurt again. He hadn't tried to leave either.

The day was spent walking through the forest, carrying as much of their gear as his small body could handle. Eventually, he had been forced to allow his magic to lighten the load slowly, but Dantor had seen his eyes flash and in retaliation, had hoisted another bag onto his screaming shoulders, almost causing his knees to buckle where he was standing. The only time that they had actually told him to use his magic was when the sound of men shouting could be heard coming from somewhere behind them on the second day.

Wildly wondering whether it was the villagers looking for him and whether they would be able to take him home, Merlin had frozen before opening his mouth in order to call back. Harg, who was as quick as he was strong, had seen the movement and been behind Merlin before he could even take a deep breath in. Immediately, the bandit's hand was clamped over Merlin's mouth and it took him no effort at all to hold the boy against him, hissing in his ear that Merlin was to stay quiet. Initially, the boy-warlock had struggled, trying to push away Harg's hand and crying out slightly. But when he realised it simply made the man tighten his grip, he fell still, tears spilling from his eyes and trickling miserably down his face.

Harg seemed to realise that Merlin's defiance had morphed into fear and he let go of the boy, placing his hands on his shoulders and spinning him around until they were face to face.

"Hide our tracks. Use that magic of yours that has landed you in this situation and make sure that we can't be traced. If I see so much as a footprint on the ground, I'll plant that same footprint on your backside, understand?" Merlin had squeaked his agreement and let the power roll off him. He had no idea what he was doing, whether it truly was removing their tracks, but considering nothing could be seen around them, Harg had seemed satisfied.

Shifting slightly as he thought back on the last few days, the thirteen year old had to bite his lip in order to stop himself from crying out. He had no idea where he was, or how to get away from these men. He had picked up enough from what he had overheard to know that they were heading towards a larger camp in order to join up with some more of the bandits that roamed the forest. Years ago, he might have found the idea of being with a large group of bandits as being something thrilling, but now, he was terrified.

Harg was the one on watch that night, and he leered unpleasantly over at the huddled boy.

"You did bring this upon yourself, brat." He sneered, and Merlin simply focused on making himself as small as possible. In the few hours that he had managed to grab some sleep, it had been filled with vivid dreams about overcoming his fear and turning the pair of them into toads or something equally as harmless and making them fully aware of who they were dealing with. But only being thirteen meant he tended to have a disadvantage. Not only physically, but mentally as well. Merlin didn't truly understand how his magic worked, and when he saw Dantor's hand coming to rest on the hilt of his knife, or Harg casually trailing a whip over his shoulder as if it was an everyday occurrence, fear paralysed his magic and he could do nothing but agree to whatever they asked of him.

"That's what you get for showing off a power like yours." Harg continued, not seeming to notice that Merlin had sunk down the tree in order to hug his knees to his chest in an attempt to get warm. "People want to use it. You've done such a good job at hiding our tracks and carrying everything, we simply don't want to let you go again. Maybe when you are older, and we are sure where your loyalties lie, we'll let you properly help. But right now, boy, you just have to do what you are told."

Merlin didn't reply, but buried his head in his folded arms. If he shut his eyes, he could once again bring forth the image in his mind of when he had sent Harg flying, when he hadn't been simply a scared child, but a magical being protecting his mother. The thought helped to warm him a little and he smiled into the darkness of his folded arms. He refused to think about Harg's words implying that Merlin wasn't going to be leaving them any time soon.

Harg seemed to realise that Merlin was not going to answer him and he just chuckled darkly, leaving the boy curled up at the foot of the tree. Merlin immediately tried to take advantage of the fact that he hadn't been given a job to do or told to move, so let his body relax. Despite how uncomfortable and afraid he was, it took him no time at all to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

He wasn't sure whether he sensed the presences close to him, or whether he just overheard the two bandits talking, but Merlin found that instead of awakening slowly, he jolted himself back into consciousness. Uncurling himself, Merlin looked up only to flinch as he realised that Dantor had his fist raised. On seeing that the boy was awake, he lowered it again with a disappointed sigh even as Harg laughed.

"On your feet, boy. We should arrive at the main camp by midday." Merlin slowly stood up, wincing as his body protested against the position he had been sleeping in. He let his hands drift behind him, clinging onto the tree to make sure that he stayed upright and therefore didn't give them a reason to do anything. Harg walked off, and Dantor nodded pointedly to where their belongings were strewn around the fire.

"You have five minutes." He growled, and Merlin didn't even think what he was doing, but instead, dived forward. For a good few moments, he scrambled around on his hands and knees, trying to pull everything into reach. He almost made it as well, hoisting the whole lot into his arms in a completely haphazard way and then beginning to climb to his feet unsteadily. He might have made it upright with still holding the lot if Dantor hadn't nudged him in the back. All it took was that one touch and Merlin immediately let go of everything that he was holding, sending it crashing back down to the ground and causing an even bigger mess than it had been before.

"Time's almost up." Dantor commented, and Merlin felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't want to know why Dantor had given him a time, or what the consequence would be if he didn't meet it. Instantly, he dropped back to his knees and tried to pick things up, fully aware that he was making himself look like a fool as he was doing it. Reaching out for a stray cooking pot, Merlin snarled slightly as Dantor used his foot to nudge it out of his reach.

He didn't even think about what he was doing. The humiliation of the last few days coupled with the fact that he was hungry and scared meant that his magic had been kept on edge for the whole time, only his fear holding it back from lashing out. But now that Dantor had just added a dose of frustration into that, Merlin found that he could no longer hold back.

He had no idea what he was doing. Only he could feel the power accumulating behind his eyes and knew without having to see that they were slowly changing colour, becoming a burning gold. He had used his magic only a handful of times properly in his life and it was only through other people telling him that this happened that he was even aware of it. But he saw Dantor take a step backwards and knew that it was obvious he was using magic. He turned his blazing glare onto the belongings that had just been refusing to be held, and by the time he had blinked, everything had vanished. The packs, the pots and pans, even the spare clothing. The whole lot had simply gone, almost as if it had never been there.

Merlin gasped, staring around him in a touch of fear as he realised what he had done. The power leaked away from him and he realised that he was shaking slightly, this having been one of the greatest displays of magic that he had ever put himself through. Pressing his palms to the floor, Merlin let his body rock forward slightly, trying to understand what he had just done. As the adrenaline started to ebb away slightly, Merlin bit his lip, trying to hold back a whimper. He had just destroyed all of their belongings. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to know how they would respond to that.

For a long moment, he could only stare at the floor. But when he heard a slow, mocking clap, Merlin finally glanced back up again. It was Dantor clapping whilst Harg just looked amused. Both had moved closer, and Merlin realised with a jolt that they were pressing in on either side of him. There was no way that he could run even if he wanted to; there was simply no escape right now.

"Well done." Merlin blinked, not being sure whether he had heard Harg properly or not. Swallowing, he looked up at the man, but frowned when he saw that he seemed to be genuine with his praise. Seeing Merlin's glance, the bandit laughed.

"You really think that we have kept you alive just so that you could cover our tracks? You came in here boasting of powers, something that we had already seen. You've got guts, boy, no many children would seek out the person who tried to hurt their mother and offer to join them. But you've showed us no sign of that power apart from odd little bits here and there. It seems that if we get you nice and frustrated, you can do something. Not such a useless twerp, after all, are you?"

Merlin could only blink up at him, not being sure whether he was being insulted or complimented. Either way, he seemed to have just got away with making all of their belongings vanish and not get punished for it, something that he was eternally grateful about. Not to mention that he loved the rush of power lashing out with his magic had given him, making him feel more alive and far older than his thirteen years.

Dantor moved behind him, hooking his hands under Merlin's shoulders and hauling him to his feet with ease. Merlin initially thought that he was going to fall again, his legs not quite having worked out that they needed to stop trembling in order to keep him upright. But eventually, he had managed to steady himself and taking a deep breath, he finally looked around properly.

"The others will be waiting for us." Dantor muttered, and Harg simply nodded, his eyes locked on Merlin.

"Harg, we don't have the gold that we promised them. The brat just made it all vanish. You know what the boss will say if we don't pay up, we were on our last chance anyway…"

"Oh don't worry," Harg didn't seem at all worried by the worry lacing Dantor's tone, and Merlin shivered slightly when he realised that the man was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do with himself under such a gaze.

"We can give him something worth a lot more than a few measly gold pieces." If Merlin was to look back in years to come, the thing that he would have regretted the most was that moment. At thirteen, he didn't quite understand the hidden meaning in Harg's words, only knew that it couldn't mean anything good as Dantor laughed. Harg started walking off and a single shove in the shoulder blades made Merlin stumble after him, wondering what on earth this great prize could be that it was worth more than gold. Apart from the coins these two had made him polish, Merlin had never even _seen_ anything that was pure gold before, and he knew the bandits had been carrying more than his entire village was worth.

But as he followed Harg through the thick undergrowth, uncomfortably aware that Dantor was right behind him; he had no idea that _he _was the great prize being spoken of.

MMM

Merlin knew they were getting close even before he knew where they were going. They had been walking for a few hours, but compared to the last few days, it felt like nothing. Without the weight of everything pressing down, he was able to look around more as they walked and get a feel of the forest. But time seemed to go far too quickly as the sun had not yet reached its highest when the soft murmur of many voices came filtering through the trees. Merlin didn't dare turn around to face Dantor, but he could see the way the tension seemed to leave Harg's shoulders. The man was obviously relieved to be back amongst a larger group and his pace sped up.

Dantor clamped a heavy hand down on Merlin's skinny shoulder as he forced the boy into walking quicker. For a heart stopping moment, Merlin thought that he was going to fall over his own feet, but managed to get his limbs to listen to him just in time. Glancing around him, he couldn't deny that his jaw dropped.

There had to be at least thirty men living in a small clearing, yet Merlin hadn't even heard them until they were but ten paces from the camp. Small tents littered the area, sleeping mats taking over the rest of the space. It looked as if there was some sort of hierarchy amongst them as some of the tents were bigger than others, and a rather grand looking one stood in the centre. The space around that tent had been left clear rather than everything piling up around, and Merlin knew without being told that this would be where the leader that both Harg and Dantor were so afraid of lived.

"He's not happy with you boys." A voice called, sounding far too cheerful considering the threatening meaning behind his words. Merlin swallowed, but Dantor still had hold of him and the boy wouldn't have been able to stop even if he wanted to.

"He will be." Harg yelled back, glancing over his shoulder at Merlin as he spoke. For a boy that was used to hiding away, Merlin visibly cringed as what felt like every set of eyes in the entire encampment came to rest on him and he heard murmuring break out once again as they clearly tried to work out who he was and why Harg had brought him to the camp. His heart was thudding almost painfully in his chest and he subconsciously dropped back so that Dantor was right behind him rather than an arm length away. Whilst he was growing to hate the bandit for how he had been treated over the last few days, Dantor offered a sense of security right now. At least with him, Merlin knew where he stood. Some of these men had a look about them that made Merlin's skin crawl, and he had to remind himself that they were living outside of the law. And that Harg had made a point when he said the night before that the young teenager had brought this upon himself. Merlin had been the one to claim that he wanted to join them.

He kept his eyes down as he was pushed through the camp, but before they reached the tent, Harg suddenly turned. Merlin didn't even see that he had stopped until a hand grabbed his chin roughly, craning his head back so that he was forced to look up at the moment looming over him.

"You lost me the gold, boy. So you better do exactly as you are told and make it worth my while, you hear? If I tell you to jump, you jump. If I tell you to use magic, you do it, understand?" Merlin jerked his head in something that almost resembled a nod considering the grip on his chin. Harg seemed satisfied though, for he let go and strode forward, looking tall and confident. Merlin knew that it was just an act though, and wasn't sure whether that reassured him or not that the man was just as afraid as he was. He didn't have time to think about it, however, before Dantor had pushed him into the tent.

It was as if he had just walked straight into a palace, not a tent, and Merlin could only stare about him with wide eyes even as Dantor pushed him to his knees, keeping his hands on Merlin's shoulders in order to keep him down. The boy didn't noticed, however, as a tall man stepped out of the shadows. He had shoulder length jet black hair and a beard that matched, but what caught Merlin's attention the most was his eyes. They seemed to be just as black as his hair, and Merlin wasn't sure whether that was just the lighting or whether that was their true colour.

"Harg. You have my gold." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and Harg glanced at Merlin.

"No, Sire…" He didn't even have the chance to explain before a small bolt shot out of nowhere, striking him in the chest. Harg fell in a crumpled heap and Merlin flinched back, his mouth hanging open in horror. It was taking every ounce of his self-control in order to not scream and he could feel himself trembling.

"Dantor. You have my gold."

"Yes, Sire." Dantor hadn't so much as flinched at Harg's death and Merlin whimpered slightly as he was pushed forward, landing on his hands and knees at the bandit's feet. A hand caressed his hair before gripping it tightly and pulling his head up as the man clearly got a better look at him.

"And what is this?"

"Sorcerer, Sire. A powerful one, possibly even one of the rumoured warlocks. We don't have the gold because he simply made it vanish into thin air, didn't even say a word."

"How old are you, boy?" The man asked, his voice deceivingly soft and gentle. Merlin had to force himself to find his voice.

"Thirteen, Sire." He muttered, staring at the man's knee rather than risking looking up. It didn't help that the hand was still fisted in his hair, meaning he couldn't drop his head as much as he wanted to.

"Thirteen, eh? Almost a man. Why don't you show me this magic of yours?" Thinking back on what Harg had said and then what had happened to him, Merlin knew that it wasn't a request. He dived into himself, trying to find the focus of his magic in order to bring it to the surface. He had to do this, he knew that it was the only way that he would be able to prove himself in order to not be killed or simply kept as a servant to the rest of the bandits for the rest of his life.

But try as he might, Merlin couldn't get a grip on the magic. He could feel that it was there, but it was like it was afraid, bucking and slipping from his grasp every time he tried to grab hold of. Time didn't seem to exist as he attempted to show what he could do, but eventually, the hand on his hair disappeared.

"Take him outside, then return. You owe me, Dantor." The man rasped, and Merlin groaned as Dantor grabbed him by the back of his shirt, hauling him upright. The bandit was practically shaking with anger and he bodily threw Merlin from the tent.

Merlin landed in a heap on the floor, and didn't even have time to think about scrambling away before Dantor was upon him.

"You little brat. You think you can just vanish our gold and get away with it, that you then suddenly don't have any magic left to show?" Dantor snarled, fury radiating from every fibre of his being. Merlin could almost feel his anger, his magic recoiling from it rather than helping to protect him. Instead, he just curled up as tight as he could, knowing what was coming but also knowing that there was no escape from it.

"I tried!" Merlin yelled, curling up even tighter than he thought was actually possibly with a whimper as Dantor's foot connected with his stomach. He knew that this was something that he would not be able to explain, not to someone who didn't have magic, he just had to try. "I just can't do it, I don't know how or why!"

He wasn't aware that the rest of the camp had stopped what they were doing in order to watch the confrontation, or the fact that the leader had pulled back the flap on his tent to witness the spectacle. Many were laughing, but Merlin was too busy focusing on trying to stop the blows from raining down on him.

"I should send you back in pieces to your precious mother for this. And then I'll cut her into pieces, maybe that will make you think twice before you decide you can't use magic."

And just like that, Merlin snapped. As his magic had come to his mother's defence before, it was roaring into life again now. There was a ringing in his ears that was drowning out every other sound, and it was like his vision had focused until he could only see Dantor.

"Don't threaten my mother!" He growled, sounding menacing for a boy of thirteen. He could feel the magic rushing through his body, and could see by the way Dantor suddenly took a nervous step back that his eyes must have been glowing again. This man had seen what he was capable of, and Merlin found that he actually took a moment of delight in seeing the bully scared of him. There was a pulse and the magic seemed to explode out of him, sending Dantor flying through the air and causing all of the tents to ripple in the unfelt breeze rushing through the clearing.

As soon as the man landed, Merlin gasped, the power draining away as he realised what he had done. He had wanted to hurt the man, and had done so, even enjoying it. It went against everything that his mother had ever taught him about his magic, and the warlock fell back with a cry, not even having noticed that he had stood up in the process. His hand was shaking violently as he tried to process what had happened, and felt a rush of sheer relief shoot through him when he saw Dantor climb warily to his feet from the other side of the camp. For a moment, Merlin had thought that he had actually killed the man.

"Now that is more like it. Collar him." Merlin could only sit there, stunned, as two of the bandits ran forward. One grabbed his hands, holding them with ease behind his back whilst the other pulled out what looked like a metal collar. After a few seconds of fiddling, he clipped it around the boy's neck, and Merlin could do nothing but scream. He could feel the iron in the collar, the way that it immediately acted as a damper on his magic. The man holding him let go and the boy fell onto his back, arching slightly.

"Get it off! Please!" He yelled, hands scrabbling at the metal in an attempt to remove it from his neck. His fingers did nothing, however, and after a few moments, he fell back, panting weakly.

"Please…" He didn't even notice that there were tears flowing from the corner of his eyes as the leader came and crouched down beside him. Once again, there was a hand resting on his hair, but it didn't grip on this time, but just stayed there comfortingly.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Merlin." Said child whispered, his voice trembling as much as his body.

"Well, Merlin, I will do you a deal. I will take the collar off, if you agree to stay by my side and serve me." Merlin didn't even think about what he was agreeing to, but just nodded frantically. All he could feel was the pain from the collar, and he knew that he would have agreed to anything in that moment just to stop it hurting.

"I'll do it! Please, I'll do it, just take it off!" Merlin was shouting as loud as he could, hoping that would make the men realise just how much the collar was suffocating him. If he was honest, he felt like he would pass out before long, and as the man had just offered him a way out of that feeling, Merlin knew he was taking it without thinking about what it could potentially mean for him.

"Good answer, boy. You, man, take him into my tent and restrain him."

"What!?" Merlin yelled and fought as a man pulled him to his feet and took hold of his arm, beginning to lead him away. He tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight, he could do nothing more than make the man's hand grip tighter onto his arm.

"I agreed to help you."

"You did. But your word is not binding enough, my boy. You have to bind your magic to your promise there, and until you do that, I have to make sure that you can't hurt me, understand?"

Realising that he was in far more trouble than he had originally contemplated when he had agreed to the man's deal, Merlin struggled fruitlessly as he was led away. The man seemed wary of him, but Merlin knew that he posed no more threat to him like this than any other thirteen year old did.

He was led into the centre of the tent and pushed into a sitting position, his back against the main pole that supported the whole thing. He went down numbly, wanting nothing more than to be able to go home and for his mother to tell him that everything was going to be alright. His hands were pulled around the pole and behind his back before he felt some sort of twine wrap around them, tying him to the pole.

"Word of advice, boy." The man securing him muttered, not sounding at all unpleasant. "Do as he says. Keep low and do as you are told, and you might live through this. Not all of us agree with him, I'll try and get you out. Betray me, and I'll leave you here for good. Just behave, and it will be much better for you."

Merlin could only nod, not trusting his voice as the knots were finished and the man stood up. He moved to the flap of the tent, cast Merlin a sorrowful look and left, leaving the child tied securely to the post with the heavy weight of the collar resting against his neck.

Merlin knew that there was no way out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this is a few days late, been in bed with the flu all week!**

**Enjoy!**

Merlin had tried tugging and twisting free of the twine for what felt like hours, but had achieved nothing other than giving himself bloody wrists. He was trying to focus on the stinging sensation it was leaving him with so he didn't let his mind think too much about the heavy circle of metal resting around his neck. His stomach was churning and he felt incredibly lightheaded and dizzy, yet the fact he hadn't passed out yet meant that he knew that he wasn't going to. He had heard stories from a young age about collars like these, his mother mainly telling him in order to press home to her young son just how dangerous it was for him to tell people about his gifts. Not only had Merlin broke his promise to her that he would never say a word, he had done it in front of the worst possible people.

At thirteen, Merlin wasn't truly thinking about what it would mean to live with bandits for the rest of his life, or the things they would make him do. When he had stumbled across Harg and Dantor, he had seen a way of no longer having to live in the shadows, to be able to use his magic and…

Merlin stopped that thought, shuddering. He had almost hoped people would be wary of it, of _him_, that he wouldn't just be the boy that didn't quite fit in. It went against everything he had previously believed in with his magic, determined to do only good with it, but he had been young, upset and desperate.

Not as desperate as he was now, however. Merlin placed the flats of his feet against the floor, pushing up sharply as he tried to make it into a standing position. At least if he could stand, he wouldn't feel so vulnerable. The bandits probably wouldn't notice the difference, but Merlin knew it would make him feel better. But the light-headedness was too much for him, and as soon as he made it into something that could vaguely resemble an upright position, his legs gave way and he went crashing back down to the floor again. Letting out a yelp of pain and surprise, Merlin felt himself hit the floor hard. Whimpering slightly, he pulled his knees into his chest and rested his head on the, trying to hide himself away from the outside world.

"That was a good try, boy." No sooner had Merlin looked down when the voice came out of nowhere and his head shot back up again. He had to twist awkwardly in order to locate the voice, but finally managed to see the leader leaning in the corner of the tent, watching him with an expression that seemed to flicker between amusement and approval.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" Merlin cried, tugging at his wrists again. Thankfully, the man came forward so that the child wasn't having to strain his head around as far and crouched down in front of the restrained warlock.

"My name is Jarta. And as for what I want from you, well, that's for me to know and you to find out, isn't it? But you will find out soon, just as soon as they have finished preparing the ritual." The man's voice was calm and almost friendly. Merlin might have even been taken in by it, but he knew full well that this was the man who had given the order for him to be collared; this was the man that would ultimately decide his fate. Considering his current position, Merlin wasn't sure whether that would be a good thing or not.

"What ritual?" Merlin tried to keep his voice steady, but even he could hear the way that it was trembling violently. Jarta rested a hand on his shoulder in what Merlin supposed was a comforting manner, but that didn't stop him from trying to pull away. When he did so, however, Jarta's grip tightened and he ran his thumb around the edge of the collar, causing it to spark slightly and for Merlin to flinch back. It was like a warning, not quite bordering on pain, but something that made him aware that Jarta seemed to have some sort of control over the collar.

"For one thing, it will stop you from flinching away from me. I will bind your magic to me, and it will respond to my will. You will be a vessel if you like, the body in which the magic is housed in. But you will have no control over it yourself, it will just respond to me." Merlin stared at him in horror, his eyes going wide before he pulled back as hard as he could, his hands tugging on the bindings.

"No! No, you can't! I don't want that, you can't make me!"

"You gave me your word that you would help me, Merlin." Despite the man's voice being friendly, Merlin could hear the warning note in it. He didn't pay any attention, however, but continued to struggle. Jarta backed away, watching his efforts in amusement.

"Not that, anything but that, please…" Merlin begged, realising quite what he had got himself into. He had no idea the true potential of his magic, yet he had a feeling that he was strong, stronger than most were at his age. He also had a very strong feeling that Jarta would find out just how strong when he took control. Jarta leant forward, cupping Merlin's face almost harshly and forcing the boy to look up at him.

"I am going to use your magic, boy. You owe me for vanishing my gold, and I saw the way you reacted when Dantor threatened your mother. Now, you can either do as I say, or we go to her or demand that she pays."

"We don't have any money." Merlin muttered, tears sticking to his eyelashes as he stared up at the man.

"Then I suggest that you do precisely as I say, don't you? It will all be over soon, you'll see. You'll like it, Merlin, you won't have to worry about losing control or anything like that, I'll look after you, I swear." Merlin could do nothing but let the tears run down his cheeks as he realised what running away had potentially cost him. He had left in order to be free, not to be practically enslaved to someone.

"It's ready." A head stuck around the flap of the tent and Jarta nodded, pulling out a flask.

"What's that?" Merlin muttered, knowing that he wasn't going to like the answer, but also knowing that he couldn't just let it all happen without some hint of defiance.

"Something to free your magic." Jarta pressed the flask against Merlin's lips, but the boy simply glared, keeping them well and truly shut. The bandit sighed, reaching over and pinching his nose until he had no choice but to part them slightly to breathe, and the man tipped some of the contents into his mouth. Merlin continued to glare, before very deliberately spitting it back out again. It earned him a sharp slap across the face, but Merlin didn't care. He may be a child, but that didn't mean they could do whatever they wanted with him, especially when he had made his feelings on the matter quite clear. Jarta growled slightly at his actions, placing the flask on the floor and reaching behind Merlin.

The warlock tried to kick out at the flask, tried to knock it over, but he couldn't reach even as Jarta untied him.

"Dantor!" Merlin struggled violently as Jarta pulled him to his feet, pushing him towards the tent flap even as Dantor appeared.

"The boy isn't taking his medicine." Merlin wasn't sure that he could say precisely what happened. Only that one moment, he was standing of his own accord, and the next, he was pinned against Dantor, the bandit's arms encircling his midriff and making it so that he couldn't use his arms. His head was tipped back on Dantor's shoulder and Jarta's hand was once more pinching his nose. Just like before, Merlin eventually had to open his mouth slightly to breathe, and yet again, Jarta tipped the contents in. But this time, he then clamped his hand over Merlin's mouth, preventing him from breathing until Merlin had no choice but to swallow.

The effect was almost immediate. It was like he didn't have control of his body, going limp in Dantor's hold. He was vaguely aware of shapes and sounds around him, but he wasn't seeing them properly any more. The sounds were muted, almost as if he was hearing them underwater, yet colours had gone the opposite way, more defined than ever. It was like there were dancing lights around the whole place and Merlin wasn't even aware that he was being dragged outside. His body was numb and he felt giddy, happy almost by the magic that he could feel thrumming through his veins in a way that he had never experienced before.

All in all, Merlin felt alive. He felt connected to his magic, as if this was what he had been born to feel like. Every sense was heightened, apart from his hearing and the fear and terror had vanished. He could feel tendrils of magic seeking a way out of the confines of his body, only to be sent spiralling back into him in anger as it ran into the cold metal of the collar. Merlin didn't noticed the way that he was tipped onto a large slab, a bandit taking hold of his shoulders in order to hold him down whilst Jarta climbed on as well. He had his knees pressing into Merlin's sides as he knelt over the boy.

The sound of chanting was making itself known to Merlin's hazy brain, but he couldn't work out what was being said. He didn't notice the way that Jarta brought a knife to his own arm, slicing into the skin and causing a trickle of blood to bubble to the surface, running down. As the chanting increased, Merlin gasped, his hearing becoming to come back properly even as something cold was pressed against his arm. He didn't feel the pain as Jarta made an identical cut on the boy's arm though, the magic was clouding everything.

The bandit pressed the two wounds together, causing their blood to mix as the chanting took on a new note. It increased in volume and speed as Jarta used his free hand to reach up, releasing the clasp on the collar even as he forced their blood to continue to mix.

The feeling of the magic being released was one that Merlin would be able to recall, even years later. His back arched as his eyes were flooded with gold, sparks flying through the air. Colours of light twirled and danced around where their arms were pressed together, working into the cuts and healing them as Jarta too began to chant. Once the cuts were healed, he placed his fingers on Merlin's temples, beginning to draw the magic into him. It spat and crackled angrily, not wanting to be bound to another's will, but Merlin was young and untrained, he had no way of holding onto his own power. He was beginning to come down from the high slightly, gasping as he tried to draw a deep enough breath to stop the magic.

By the time his senses returned to normal and he felt like he could possibly have the slightest bit of control, it was too late. The magic had settled this time, and Jarta had climbed off the altar, smirking. The bandit initially holding Merlin down now pushed him into a sitting position, forced to support the boy in order to stop him from falling. Merlin looked towards Jarta, and suddenly, the overwhelming urge to set the tree at the far side of the camp overcame him. Before he could stop himself, his hand had risen, his pupils glowed and a flame immediately engulfed the tree.

Jarta's chin lifted in satisfaction, and Merlin realised that the thought had come from him, that he had been the one wanting it to happen, and it had. Whimpering slightly, Merlin stared at him, realising that what Jarta had said before was true. Merlin's magic was now chained to the bandit's will, and even as Merlin struggled to grasp onto his power for himself, it slipped out of his grasp and a resounding throb thudded through his head.

"No…"

"It won't all be bad, Merlin. Get used to it, embrace it and don't fight me, and you are going to feel more powerful than you have ever done in your entire life. You will get used to responding to my commands, and if you don't try to resist them or harness the power for yourself, it won't hurt, I promise." Jarta was back in front of him now, an almost fatherly expression on his face as he gazed down at the terrified warlock. Merlin could only shake his head desperately, knowing that he had got himself into this situation and now he had no way out of it again. Jarta smiled and turned to walk away, but Merlin was suddenly hit with a rush of fury. How dare this man steal his magic in the same way that he stole people's gold?

He wrenched himself free of the bandit's hold and lunged at Jarta. Unfortunately, he misjudged quite the drug had done to him and rather than taking down the man the way he had planned, Merlin just landed in a heap on the floor, moaning slightly. He was struggling to stay conscious, but his eyes were fluttering and he couldn't seem to get his eyes to focus on anything properly.

"Give him a rug in the corner of my tent whilst he recovers, I'll need him to hand." Merlin vaguely heard Jarta's voice, but it was as if he was drowning, everything was being taken away from him. The muted sound was back this time, but rather than his vision becoming colourful, it was going dark, slowly ebbing away from him as he lost his grip on consciousness.

He was partly aware of being put over someone's shoulder and carried into – what he presumed – was Jarta's tent. There was a low hum of voices and then he was being placed down on something soft. It was far softer than anything that he was used to, and Merlin found that he automatically seemed to sigh and snuggle into it slightly. There was someone talking above his head, but he couldn't make out the words. Nor, Merlin found, did he particularly care. He couldn't explain how he felt, but simply rolled over and let the darkness claim him. Whether he was asleep or unconscious, no one could be quite sure, but another blanket was draped over the boy and he was left to sleep off the effects of having his magic bent to another's will.

MMM

Merlin slowly watched the water trickling into the pot, knowing that he should be hurrying back but not being able to bring himself to do so. Six months he had been with the bandits for now, and it felt like forever. He had tried to run four times within the first week, but Jarta seemed to know what he was doing. All it had taken was a thought on the man's behalf, and Merlin's magic was bringing him back again, whether he liked it or not. Jarta had found it amusing the first few times, but by the fourth, he had ordered his men to teach the new boy some discipline. Merlin was still convinced that Dantor had broken his rib during that beating, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had stopped running away after that, however.

It almost scared him how used to life out here he had become. He basically acted as a servant for Jarta the majority of the time, fetching and carrying, serving him meals, polishing his boots etc. He couldn't use magic to do it unless the man happened to be thinking about how hungry he was at the time or thoughts along similar wavelengths to the orders he had given Merlin. In a way, Merlin was getting used to playing the game. He knew to push Jarta until the man _really _wanted the job done, as then he tended to allow Merlin the use of his magic to do it and therefore it made Merlin's life a lot easier. It was a fine line he walked though, knowing he was pushing the most dangerous man in the camp.

But it wasn't just fetching and carrying that Merlin's magic was being used for. The bandits were becoming richer than ever. It took two of them to pose as lost travellers, stop whoever it was that was passing and for Jarta to demand that Merlin relieved them of anything valuable, and the warlock's magic did exactly that. They weren't left with things that they could neither use nor sell, and no one was injured, meaning reports weren't getting back to Camelot. The only drawback with that was that some of the men were getting bored and the group had split, often clashes breaking out between them as they tried to take possession of their ultimate tool, of Merlin. Of course, all Jarta had to do was order that Merlin defended himself and they couldn't get anywhere near him for the magic encircling the boy and keeping him safe.

"You know you shouldn't hesitate too long, don't you?" The soft voice made Merlin jump and he looked up, only to blush slightly. Petra had been claimed by Jarta after an attack on her village, but he treated her well, and she in turn looked out for Merlin, sneaking him extra pieces of food and making sure that he was warm enough as winter fast approached.

Of course, it was no good for the thirteen year old. He was young, and she was very pretty, meaning Merlin felt like he had fallen head over heels in love with her. He grinned up at her, knowing that his cheeks had turned pink. She seemed to be aware of his youthful crushed, but never said anything. Mainly because neither of them were sure how Jarta would react.

"I'll know if he wants me back." Merlin was with a shrug, realising that the water jug was actually full. He pulled it from the stream and settled it on the grass beside him before cupping some water in his hands and washing his face, shivering slightly at the chilly bite of the water. He was in no rush to get back. Jarta was planning something, and after he had caught Merlin eavesdropping, he had forced the boy away, using Merlin's own magic to make sure that he forgot everything he had just heard. Yet Merlin had picked up enough, he knew that they were planning something big. Leaders from other bandit encampments had been with them for a while now, all of them cooped up in Jarta's tent, discussing things. Merlin hated the way that some of them leered at him, yet wasn't sure if he hated more those that just acted as if he didn't exist, despite the fact that he was running himself ragged getting them everything they demanded.

"You play a dangerous game, child." Petra chided lightly, disapproval obvious in her musical tones, and the blush that Merlin hoped the icy water would calm came rushing back into life. He shrugged, trying to make himself look older.

"I don't have a choice." He had been going for something impressive, but his voice came out soft and low as he stared into the stream. More than anything, he missed his mother. She would never know what happened to him, not even know if her only child was alive or not. He had a feeling that she would never give up on him, but what was she expected to think when it had been over six months since he had run away from home and hadn't heard so much as a word from her son. Merlin had once asked Jarta if he could write to her, but the man had simply laughed long and hard and then told him to get on with his chores. Merlin hadn't asked again.

"It won't be forever. You are young, Merlin, and powerful. Jarta might have your magic now, but I don't believe that he will be able to hold you forever." Merlin hadn't noticed Petra come closer until there was an arm draped comfortingly over his shoulder and he automatically leant into her. Sometimes, he was able to just forget his crush and take comfort in the fact that someone was looking out for him.

"He'll never let me go, not without a fight." Merlin muttered, before hitching a smile back on his face. He knew that neither of them were fooled though. Once, Merlin's smile had lit up his whole face and made his eyes shine and gleam. Now, however, it looked nothing more than a grimace, by no means getting as far as his previously expressive eyes.

"You're right, I should be getting back. You never know, I might get to find out what they are planning." Merlin jumped to his feet, picked up the jug and made to run off. It was only Petra's grip on his arm that stopped him from falling over his own feet as he ran off, and he smiled in gratitude. Moving away again, he made his way carefully and slowly into Jarta's tent.

The man glared at him from across the space, but Merlin just dropped his gaze, not giving him an excuse to do anything. The first night the leaders had been here, Jarta had forced Merlin's magic to almost perform for them, and the young teenager didn't think that he had ever been so humiliated in his entire life. Now, however, Merlin just moved silently around the table, filling up any empty goblets and placing the water jug on the side, busying himself.

He thought that it would be the perfect way to keep him in the tent without drawing attention to himself if it wasn't for the fact that Merlin was just as clumsy as he had always been. His elbow caught a stone that Jarta had resting as a paperweight and as he turned, he knocked it to the floor with a very audible thud. Almost immediately, there was a hush around the table, and Merlin could feel the way that they were all looking at him.

"Oh send the boy away, man, this is no place for your slave." Merlin bristled, knowing that he couldn't argue back but hating the way that he was being talked about. If he was honest, he knew that the man was right, that he was nothing more than a slave in their eyes, not able to really do anything with Jarta's permission. That didn't mean he had to like be classed as one, and just as Merlin opened his mouth to respond, his magic shoved him to his knees. Glancing over at Jarta, Merlin swallowed back his retort when he saw the man shaking his head warningly. Despite Jarta's initial treatment, he seemed to have realised that Merlin's magic worked better when the boy wasn't terrified out of his mind, and an almost possessive streak had emerged when the other leaders had realised how they were connected. Merlin knew Jarta was just claiming what was his, but it did offer the young warlock some sort of protection.

"The boy can stay. It's about time he hears his part in this." Merlin felt his heart thudding hard. He knew that they had been planning something big for ages, and in the back of his mind, he knew that he would have a role in it. Jarta put his magic to good use on the best of days, but this gave him the chance to show off in front of all of the others just what he had under his control. Merlin had a feeling that whatever his role was, it was going to involve lots of fancy tricks. Jarta sighed.

"Come here, Merlin." Merlin got warily to his feet and walked slowly over to the man.

"Master?"

"I know you have been listening in, I know that you know that we are planning something. You are right, we are. This something is big, and will have each of us being able to set ourselves up as Lords in whatever city we chose. Of course, you are going to be coming with me, but it means that you get to see the city." Merlin stayed quiet, wondering why Jarta was telling him about the rewards without telling him what the plan was.

"Camelot's patrol heads through this part of the forest annually, both the king and the prince travelling to one of the estates to make one of their fat nobles feel like they are worth something, idiotic scum." If there was one thing that Merlin had learnt over his six months with the bandits, it was that Jarta did not take nicely to nobles. But he wasn't thinking about that now, his mind had zoned in on one word.

Prince.

The Prince of Camelot.

Arthur.

"Well, unfortunately for them, they won't quite make it. We're going to take the prince, and if the king wants his beloved heir back, he will give us whatever we ask for."

"You won't get away with it." Merlin blurted out. His memories of Arthur had slowly changed over the years as he had begun to idolise the boy he still considered to be his best friend. In Merlin's mind, Arthur was undefeatable.

"The security will be tight, yes, but we have you." Merlin backed away, shaking his head. He was not going to let his magic to be used to hurt someone that he had actually met before. It was bad enough when Jarta forced him to attack travellers or even other bandits, but to go against Arthur? No way.

"Merlin, stop." Merlin continued to back away, refusing to listen. Suddenly, the image of his own hands bound behind his back swam into his mind.

"No!" His magic had responded though, and he was back on his knees, bound by a thick rope that had come slithering from the corner of the tent before he had been able to say anything else. He struggled as Jarta moved closer, entwining his fingers into the warlock's hair.

"You will do as you are told. Gentlemen, I think we are done for the day." The rest of the men nodded and strode from the tent, one of them laughing at where Merlin was being held on his knees. Only when the tent was empty did Jarta let go of his hair.

"I would have thought that you had learnt by now, _boy_, that you do not refuse me."

"It's too dangerous, Master, we'll never get away with it." Merlin implored, wildly changing tact with the hope that he would be able to get through to Jarta. He would not be used like that, not against someone such as the prince of Camelot.

"Go to bed, Merlin, I'm tired of your whining." Merlin lifted his arms awkwardly behind his back, his shoulders screaming as he silently asked Jarta to let him go free again. The bandit shook his head with a laugh though.

"Like I said, I know that you have been eavesdropping." With that, he left, but Merlin crawled over to his rug, lying down even with his hands bound behind him. He knew that there was no point arguing against Jarta with something like this, it would just end up worse for him.

But for the first night in months, Merlin cried himself to sleep, not knowing what the future held. The only bright spark he could think of was that he might get to see Arthur again. But that spark was quickly crushed as the warlock realised that he wouldn't be trying to free Arthur this time, but being responsible for why he was captured in the first place.


	4. Chapter 4

**On time this week :) Thank you so much once again for the fantastic support!**

"I won't do it, you can't make me." It had been months since Merlin had sounded that bold in front of Jarta, but he knew that it was potentially the only way that he could make the man listen. It had been almost a week since Merlin had first been told of the plan, and this was the first chance that he had had in order to be able to speak to his master.

The plan had been put into action almost immediately after scouts had returned the very next morning with news that the city was abuzz with the talk of the journey. It was rare for both the King and the Prince to leave Camelot at the same time, meaning everyone was talking about it. It was almost too easy to obtain information about the route that the party would be travelling along and how many men they would have with them. Merlin knew why though. Even with his very limited knowledge of a fight, it would be almost suicidal to take on those odds. Unless, of course, you had magic.

Ever since the news had come, the camp had been a flurry of activity. Merlin had been working almost around the clock as they had packed up and moved to higher ground, somewhere where they were sure that no one would be able to find them. As much as he tried to tell himself that it was for the groups own protection, Merlin knew that it was really because they were looking for a hide out where they could hold the prince hostage without anyone finding them. Not only had the young warlock been involved in the physical side of moving the camp, Jarta had also been putting his magic to use with making sure that their tracks were covered. As it had now been months since Merlin's magic had been enslaved to the man, Jarta didn't need to be next to Merlin in order to work his power

The only other time that Merlin had been anywhere near Jarta was when he had been allowed to sleep in the man's tent again. It depended on how well he behaved as to whether he was allowed that protection from the elements, but Jarta seemed to be uncomfortable with making him sleep outside with all of the other bandits roaming around, especially as they knew precisely what he was capable of. Merlin's magic might be under strict orders to protect its host, orders that it couldn't disobey even if Merlin wanted it to. But he was still a thirteen year old boy living with people who had been killing since they were younger than him. It seemed to be an almost unspoken understanding between him and his master – if they wanted Merlin dead, they would succeed, meaning that the bandit himself was forced to offer the boy some protection. Merlin wasn't going to complain, it meant that he had somewhere warm.

He had meant to say something that very first night, but exhaustion was too prominent and he had fallen asleep before Jarta had even retired. The same pattern followed for a couple of days, but when he finally managed to stay awake for long enough to pluck up the courage to do something, he still hadn't had the opportunity. Jarta had ordered Petra to the tent as well, and Merlin had simply pulled the blanket over his head and clapped his hands over his ears as he tried to drown out the sound of what was going on behind him. The next morning, he had been blushing far too much to make a noise that could even resemble a word as he served them breakfast, let alone put his case across.

But now, he had managed to catch Jarta on his own as dusk began to draw in, and knew that whilst the man might just send him away, he had to do something. He couldn't let himself be used like this, not when the stakes were so much higher than just a wealthy merchant losing a few coins on the road. What Merlin did know, however, was that he couldn't let Jarta know that it was because he considered Arthur to be a friend, even if the prince didn't remember him. He just _knew_ that if Jarta found out he had a past with Arthur, he would exploit that and use it to his advantage.

"I think you are missing the point when you admit that I _can_ and I will make you." The bandit responded coolly, glancing over at his slave from where he was using the river to wash away some of the grime. Merlin just stood to one side, his hands twiddling nervously together behind his back as he tried to hide how worried he was about going against his master like this. All it took was a thought on Jarta's behalf, and Merlin was helpless.

"It's dangerous! We'll never get away with it, Uther will have me killed and if you somehow escape, you won't have anyone to pick pockets for you again." Merlin knew that he was sounding desperate and young, but if he was honest, that was how he was feeling. He would have never have guessed before that he was able to feel like this and it made him realise just how hard his mother had tried to keep him protected.

"Don't you worry, everything is under control."

"How? You won't even tell me what this plan is, or what role I'm supposed to play in it."

"Then what makes you think that you aren't just going to stay here and have the supper ready for when we get back?" There was a warning note in Jarta's voice now, something that told Merlin his master was not happy about the way that this conversation was going. Involuntary, the warlock took a step backwards, making sure that he was out of arm's reach. He did, however, shake his head.

"You've had me stealing from people for months, you won't be leaving me here." He stated, trying to make himself sound older than he was feeling. Jarta grinned, washing his face one final time and stepping away from the river, ruffling Merlin's hair as he did so.

"Smart lad. You'll find out your part soon enough."

"I told you, I won't do it!" Merlin knew that raising his voice wasn't going to get him anywhere, but he couldn't help it. He had to make his point. He was so adamant that he wouldn't help them catch Arthur that he didn't think about what he was doing, but reached out and grabbed Jarta's arm. The man turned almost smoothly, and before Merlin could truly process what was happening, he was stumbling backwards with blood trickling from his lip from where his master had slapped him. Jarta looked at him steadily for a long moment, and Merlin was sure that his own magic was going to be used against him again. But the man didn't do anything.

"Very well."

"What?" Merlin made sure that he stayed out of reach this time, but he couldn't stop the confusion lacing his voice. He had been expecting to argue until he was blue in the face and still not be able to get anywhere. In the bandits eyes, he was nothing more than a child, a slave to be used when they wanted, what _he_ wanted was never taken into account, no matter how much he fought. Which was why when Jarta simply shrugged, Merlin had the feeling that he was being tricked somehow.

"I need your magic focused and strong. If you are resisting like that, you're no good to me. You're coming, I don't trust you to leave you here with the way that you have been acting lately, but you can just hold the horses rather than having an active part."

"You swear?" Merlin still didn't trust that this was happening, he had spent too long around these men. But he couldn't deny that there was a glimmer of hope beginning to work its way into him in a way that he hadn't felt for months. Maybe this was the start of things changing; maybe they were beginning to listen to what it was that he wanted slightly more? After all, if Jarta truly thought that he was just going to take Merlin with him wherever he went, he must need some sort of co-operation?

"Merlin, would you honestly trust me if I did give you my word?" Jarta had begun to walk away now, a mocking note lacing his voice as he glanced back over his shoulder at his slave. Merlin shook his head, but didn't say anything else. He didn't want to push his luck, not considering he might have just got himself out of it. Yet if he had to go along as well, maybe he would be able to warn Arthur slightly, raise the alarm before any damage could be done?

Not wanting to stay out by the river on his own, the boy hurried after his master. Too many of the other men were still watching him closely. Not that Merlin was worried by them as such, with a big plan taking place, they wouldn't risk losing their share by trying to take the warlock, but he was worried that he might do something that he would regret, something that would anger Jarta and therefore make the man go back on his word.

Even so, that didn't stop Merlin skirting at the edge of the camp, not wanting to go back in. For the first time in months, he was considering running away again. Things had settled into an uncomfortable pattern of late, but now that the bandits were going back to their more violent ways as their greed dictated their actions, Merlin wanted no part of it. If he was honest, he simply wanted to go home. How long he stood on the edge of the encampment for, he had no idea, but he did jump when Petra's arm snaked around his shoulders, steering him away.

"You should eat, Merlin." She said gently, but for the first time in a long while, Merlin resisted her pull. Jarta had been watching him just before she had arrived, and he almost nodded in approval as the girl turned Merlin away. By craning his head back, Merlin could see that Jarta had also finally turned away and was talking in a low tone to another man, gesturing back over his shoulder towards them as he did so. Somehow, Merlin got the feeling that Petra wasn't just looking out for him this time, she was making sure that he was out of earshot. Pulling harshly away from her grip, the child stumbled back. What he hadn't been expecting was for Petra's hand to shoot out, closing around his wrist and tugging him forward again with a grip far stronger than he would have expected from someone of her slight build.

It didn't matter how much he struggled, Petra simply pulled him away, not letting go until he was sitting in front of a small fire with a bowl of stew in front of him.

"He wanted to have you tie yourself up again." Her voice was cool and reproachful, and Merlin almost choked on his mouthful.

"What?"

"You guessed right in thinking that he doesn't want you listening in. He wanted to yet again use your magic against you. I suggested that I just took you to get some food instead. He would have left you tied up all night with nothing to eat, he is too distracted at the moment." Merlin blushed when he realised what she was saying. He had been correct in thinking that Jarta was waiting for him to move, but in his anger, he had forgotten that Petra was just as much of a slave as he was. He should have known that she wouldn't do anything that would cause him harm, not after months of watching out for him. Merlin slowly took another mouthful.

"Is he really going to let me just stay on the side and watch?" He eventually murmured, placing the bowl to one side and stretching his hands out towards the warmth that the flickering flames were offering. "It's suicide going against the Knights of Camelot without magic, even I've heard the stories of them. He's lying to me, he must be…"

"Merlin…"

"I won't do it, you know. I won't hurt my friend." He didn't even realise what he had said until Petra suddenly gasped, looking around her anxiously before dropping to her knees next to the young warlock. Merlin looked at her in astonishment, but then the colour slowly drained from his face as he realised what he had just admitted to.

"He can't know! Jarta can have no idea that you have been acquainted with the prince. I'm assuming that is who you mean? He'll definitely use you against him if he finds out."

"I know." Merlin refused to acknowledge the tears in his eyes, hoping that if he pretended they weren't there, they would just go away again. "I didn't mean to say anything, Arthur probably doesn't remember me…"

That thought hurt, stinging in a way that Merlin had never truly realised before. He had always known that there was a chance that Arthur might forget him, but thinking about that now, when the prince's life was in danger, caused a dull ache in his chest. Petra's hand rubbed soothingly over his back as she calmed him again, but it meant that neither of them noticed on of the men slink silently backwards from the trees just behind them, a grin on his face as he headed back to Jarta. If the pair had seen the look on his face, there would be no doubt in their minds that he had overheard every word that had just been said.

"I have to run." Merlin muttered, already beginning to stand up and looking around him wildly. "I have to get out of here, I have to run…" Petra's hand closed around his wrist again as she tugged him back down.

"You have nowhere to go, Merlin, and you know it. If you anger him now, you'll be lucky if he doesn't kill you. Just keep your head down, be good, and maybe there will be a chance to run afterwards."

"After they have caught Arthur, you mean?" Merlin let himself be pulled back down though, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes and sighing. He knew that she was right, running had never got him anywhere before, and Jarta would be furious considering the timing. That didn't mean that he had to like it, and this time, he couldn't ignore the tears as they silently spilled over and ran miserably down his cheeks. He thought he had got used to life here, but now knew that whilst his magic was enslaved to another, he would never be able to be happy.

Petra didn't say anything, but draped an arm over his shoulders, holding him close as the boy let out all of the pent up emotions he was too scared to otherwise show. But Merlin knew what her silence meant – the only chance he was ever going to get at securing his freedom was waiting until the prince of Camelot was being held hostage.

MMM

Merlin stood holding the reigns of one of their horses, keeping his back pressed against the trunk of a nearby tree. Shouts and calls of alarm were filling the air all around him as the bandits began to attack the royal camp. Merlin had no idea what they thought they were doing, already a vast number of men had fallen as the knights proved their worth. Jarta seemed to stand by what he had said and had just left Merlin with the horses, ordering him not to move. The warlock wouldn't have been able to move even if he wanted to, fear was gripping at him and turning his legs to lead.

He had never witnessed a fight like this before. It was more than a fight, it was more like a battle. Through his gap in the trees, he could make out the knights forming tight circles around those worth protecting, and Merlin wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not that he hadn't yet seen Arthur. At one point, he was sure he saw the lanky outline of a man that stirred a memory in the back of his mind, someone that he was sure that Arthur relied upon and looked up to, yet the name was eluding him.

Blinking, Merlin started when he realised that he was looking at the same man again. He was pulling back from the fighting, tugging at someone else. It was clear that he was using the men in front of him as some sort of shield whilst he backed away, and Merlin jumped when another figure came into his view, the knight pulling him along. He had grown up well, clearly having begun the training that he was always going on about, but even in the darkness, Merlin knew that there was no mistaking that blond hair. For the first time in years, he was looking at Arthur again. The prince had a sword in his hand and even from the distance that he was watching from, Merlin could see the furious expression on his face as the knight – Leon! The name suddenly clicked in Merlin's head – pulled him away. Merlin didn't need to be any closer to know what was going on. Leon was getting Arthur away from the danger, and the prince wasn't happy about it.

"So there is our little gold mine." The voice came directly from behind Merlin, making him jump violently and accidentally causing him to let go of the reigns. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, and felt his entire body tense in anxiety. This man was always keen to remind Merlin of his place, treating him as nothing more than a slave every time he saw the boy.

"Leave him alone." Merlin muttered, not sure what he was doing but determined that he was going to do _something_ in order to help Arthur get away. Leon looked like he knew what he was doing, all Merlin needed to do was give them a few more moments and Arthur would be safe.

"Of course, he's a friend of yours, isn't he?" Merlin froze, his heart beating uncomfortably hard as he slowly turned to face the man, swallowing hard. There was a sneer on the man's face, and Merlin knew in that one moment that somehow, they all knew that he had a past with Arthur. He couldn't even think of how right now, he just knew that he had to do something to warn the prince. Taking a few stumbling steps backwards, the thirteen year old tried to get away from the man and towards where he had seen Arthur making his escape. A few branches snapped loudly as he tried to push past them, but Merlin didn't notice. He also didn't realise, however, that the noise drew Arthur's attention, his keen ears picking up the noise above all the fighting. He had turned to see what was going on, his eyes widening as he realised that there was a child stumbling towards him in the middle of the fight.

Merlin didn't notice, however. He only realised that the man was approaching him, drawing a knife as he did so. For a wild moment, he looked around for Jarta, wondering if his master was going to do something, but the bandit was nowhere to be seen. Tripping over his own feet, Merlin proceeded to scramble backwards along the floor, shaking his head.

"Leave me alone…" He practically begged, knowing that he was getting closer to the fighting and therefore running out of places to go.

"I'm going to make you pay, Merlin!" Said warlock had no idea why the man had suddenly shouted his words, he was too busy by the foot driving into his stomach. Gasping, he curled around himself, tears of pain and surprise running down his face.

"Stop it!" The man didn't answer this time, but simply smiled. He bent down, grabbing Merlin by the collar and hoisting him slightly into the air, bringing the knife to rest against his throat.

"Now why would I want to do that?" Merlin couldn't help but whimper slightly as the man shook him, his teeth rattling together even as he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. "It's not as if anyone would want to protect you out here."

Merlin could do nothing but watch as the knife came racing down towards him, his mind going completely blank. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting the bandit's face to be the last thing that he saw, but found that he was tentatively opening them again when there came a sickening thud and the sound of something falling. He glanced up, only to find that there was empty space where the bandit had been and a body lying almost next to his leg. Screaming, Merlin backed away, his back hitting a tree.

"Merlin?"

"No! No, leave me alone!" He yelled, trying to curl up smaller again and therefore not realising who it was in front of him until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. The only one who had offered him any comfort over the last six months was Petra, but she was back in the camp, there was no way that this was her hand. Slowly, Merlin looked up.

"Arthur?"

"That is you, isn't it, Merlin?" Numbly, the warlock could only nod, staring up at the fifteen year old crouched over him, a bloody sword in the prince's hand.

"You've grown."

"So have you." Merlin didn't know what else he was supposed to say. How long had he hoped that Arthur would remember him, that they would be able to go back to the way they were all those years ago when they had had those few days together? Instead, they were in a middle of a fight, a fight caused by Jarta's desire to…

"Run!" Merlin hissed, shoving at Arthur's hand and trying to get the older boy to move away from him. "You have to run, they've come for you!"

"How do you know that? Come on, I can't just leave you here." Arthur reached down a hand, pulling Merlin to his feet with ease. If his mind wasn't so terrified, Merlin might have been slightly annoyed by the fact that Arthur was at least two growth spurts ahead of him right now, but instead, he found himself looking around. Something was pulling on his magic, and he knew that the only person with the power to do that was Jarta. Arthur was talking again, trying to tell Merlin something about where they could run to, but the younger boy wasn't listening. Instead, he had just locked eyes with his master through the trees.

All Jarta had to do was smile and it was as if everything had clicked in Merlin's mind regarding what was going on. The realisation was so powerful that he stumbled back from Arthur, hitting the tree once more. It had all been a set up. Jarta had never intended to leave Merlin out of the abduction, he had just made it so that the boy believed he was. He had found out that Arthur knew Merlin, waited until the prince had the boy in his sights and then had Merlin attacked. Arthur had not only moved away from his protection in order to come to the younger boy's aid, he had put himself right next to the one person that had the power to actually take him down without being on the receiving end of a sword. Merlin shook his head, his eyes pleading with Jarta not to do this, but the man merely smirked.

"Run!" He screamed at Arthur, making to turn, but Jarta seized control of his magic at that moment. Merlin was thrown to his knees, the image of a bound and helpless Arthur swimming before his mind's eye. He could feel the power building, wanting to respond to what Jarta desired, but Merlin bit his lip, trying to force himself to concentrate.

"What is it, what is wrong?"

"Go." Merlin grunted, vaguely aware that Arthur had dropped to his knees beside him again. Why wasn't he listening, why wasn't he getting as far away as possible from the person that was about to ruin his life? Merlin knew that he wouldn't be able to hold onto the magic for much longer, Jarta was clearly growing angry, he could feel it.

"It's…trap, it's a trap…I'm…bait…go…" He gasped, doing everything that he could in order to make sure that the bandit didn't get his own way. For a moment, he thought he might have actually managed it as he felt the magic settle down again slightly. But then it came back tenfold and Merlin's head shot up, his eyes blazing.

Arthur gasped, almost falling over his own feet as he tried to back away from the warlock.

"You have magic!" Merlin didn't answer; however, he was too busy having a silent battle with himself. A battle that, as nothing more than a child, he was losing. Jarta had firm control over his power, and everything that the bandit had ever dreamed was in his grasp now. Or rather, in Merlin's grasp, and Arthur didn't even make it a few steps before long winding vines seemed to spring out from the ground, tripping him and tying him down.

"No…no, stop it!" Merlin screamed, part of his mind knowing what was happening, but the majority just having to submit to Jarta's control even as the man walked slowly over. Arthur almost managed to pull himself free, his own eyes almost as fiery as Merlin's with emotion, but then more vines erupted from below him, slamming him back down as they bound him tightly.

"Well done, Merlin." Jarta had reached them now, eyeing Arthur in satisfaction as the prince's struggles were rendered useless against the force of Merlin's magic. He reached out a hand, combing it through Merlin's hair in an almost fatherly fashion, and Arthur glared.

"You? You're working with them, you planned this?!" Merlin could only shake his head, desperately trying to claw the magic back under his control. But just like every other time he had tried it over the last six months, Jarta's hold over him was too strong. The bandit laughed softly, removing his hand from Merlin and crouching down in front of Arthur.

"To catch a prince, all one needs is a slave." He murmured mockingly, pulling a rag out from his pocket. A small bottle was drawn out from the other pocket, and Merlin didn't need to ask to know that it was a mild sedative that was being poured over the cloth. Jarta didn't seem to be paying attention to the fact that they were standing on the outskirts of a ferocious battle as he slowly and carefully tied the rag around Arthur's mouth. Initially, it just silenced the prince, but even Merlin could see through his tears that the drug was beginning to take hold. Jarta backed away, watching closely as Arthur suddenly slumped, his eyes flickering. Jarta gestured to a couple of his men who had been hiding in the trees behind them and they hurried forward without a word. Merlin could only watch as they hoisted Arthur's bound form into the air and sped away. One shrill whistle echoed throughout the camp, and all of the bandits took that as their signal to retreat.

"You didn't really think that I was going to just let you sit and watch, did you?" Now that the prize had been secured, Jarta turned his attention back to Merlin. The boy just glared up at him, aware of just how young he must look with tears running down his face. But as he glanced towards where Arthur had disappeared, a sense of fury overcame him and he sprang forward. Jarta might have been planning to hold Arthur hostage, but that was effectively what he had been doing with Merlin all of this time.

"And...sleep." Jarta whispered, and Merlin could only whimper as his magic turned back on him. He crashed down into the ground, his limbs feeling lethargic and no longer wanting to respond to him. He was vaguely aware of Jarta crouching down next to him, leaning over him as he did so.

"You lied to me about knowing our prince, Merlin. Don't think that I'm going to let that go unpunished." With the final threat ringing in his ears, Merlin felt the blackness claim him as his magic yet again reacted to Jarta's will and sent him into a deep sleep. He didn't feel his master throwing him first over his shoulder, then over the back of his horse as they too made their escape. He didn't hear the shout of alarm go up from the camp they were fleeing from as the men realised that their prince was nowhere to be found.

Instead, he only saw the tricks that his mind was playing on him as he began to dream. His vision was filled with Arthur's accusing glare and the shouts from the battle in his mind, leaving him with no escape from what had just happened even whilst asleep. His eyes rolling behind closed lids and his breathing picking up in fright, Merlin had no idea when they reached the camp and he was shoved down from the horse, allowed to simply drop to the floor. He didn't feel Petra immediately drop to his side, her gentle hands checking for wounds.

But somehow, some part of his consciousness did seem to realise that the barely conscious Arthur was watching him closely as the men set about securing the prince.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much once again for the lovely reviews. This isn't over for Merlin yet, so it does continue to be a little harsh for our poor warlock. **

**Enjoy!**

Merlin was dreaming.

Part of his mind knew that he was dreaming, that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. That didn't stop whimpers of distress falling from his lips as the boy tossed in the blanket that he had been wrapped in, trying to wake himself up. He didn't know Petra was begging Jarta to pull back the magic, to let Merlin wake up as another cry fell from him. Instead, he was trapped in his own mind as he watched Arthur turn against him, blaming Merlin for everything that had happened. The dreams grew more vivid with each passing moment and he could only watch, helpless in his dream, as Arthur drew his sword and lunged at him.

Just before Arthur's weapon went through his body, Jarta gave the command and Merlin's magic drew back, allowing him to wake up once more. Merlin jolted upright with a cry, realising that there were tears running down his face even as he got himself tangled up in the blanket. For a wild moment, he could only thrash on the floor, adamant that he had been caught and was just about to be put to death.

"Shh now, hush, Merlin, everything is alright…" Gentle hands were unwrapping him from the blanket and Merlin sucked in a shaky breath as Petra freed him. He finally managed to get his eyes open properly and shrunk back in on himself as he realised that he was looking up at Jarta. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for, only knew that the man had promised that he would be punished for keeping it quiet that he knew Arthur. Personally, Merlin didn't see what they could do to him that hadn't already been done – Jarta had his magic and they had used him to capture the person he looked up to the most. But at only thirteen and having had no training in dealing with things like this in the way that he was convinced Arthur had, even the threat of physical pain was enough to make him terrified.

But now was clearly not the time. Jarta just looked down at him, scoffed and turned on his heel to walk away. Swallowing hard, it was only then that Merlin realised that he was shaking.

"I hate him. I hate him, I hate him…" He mumbled under his breath, pulling away from Petra and trying to regain control of his runaway emotions.

"You know not to say things like that, not where people can hear you." Petra scolded lightly. Merlin knew that she was only looking out for him, but right now, he didn't care. He was a combination of angry and frustrated, fed up of being used as a slave with no one listening to what he had to say about it.

"I don't care. He can't hold my magic forever, and when I get control back…"

"That's enough, Merlin. You are a child, you shouldn't talk about things like this, it will take you down a path that you do not want to go." How Petra could still sound so optimistic, so full of hope when she was just as a much of a slave to Jarta's will as he was, Merlin had no idea.

"I don't want to be his slave anymore!" Merlin cried, but this time, he allowed her hand to rub soothingly over his back. She didn't say anything, but neither did she need to. Merlin knew that he couldn't run, not when his magic was still obeying Jarta's every thought. Instead, he needed a way of breaking the enchantment, or at least giving control over to someone else rather than a cold blooded murderer. Someone that could make use of his magic, but not in a bad way. Someone like…Arthur.

"Where is he?" Merlin whispered, knowing that whilst it had been foolish to shout about how much he hated Jarta, it would be even worse if they were caught talking about the hostage. During their months together in the camp, both Merlin and Petra had discovered that anything that the bandits considered to be "business" was not something that they were allowed to discuss. Merlin was only thankful that Jarta hadn't literally forbidden Merlin to talk about it.

"Around the back of the tents." Petra breathed in response, her hands busying themselves with folding the blanket that Merlin had been wrapped in. The young warlock climbed to his feet, pausing for a moment as the world spun almost alarmingly around him before taking a tentative step forward.

"Merlin…" The boy knew that Petra was about to try and stop him, claiming that it would be too dangerous. In a way, he knew that she was right, if he was caught around there, Jarta's fury would know no limits. But at the same time, Arthur _had _remembered who he was, and he obviously thought that Merlin had had a hand in his capture. The younger boy simply had to try and explain, and if he could, help Arthur to escape. He offered Petra a small smile to say that he appreciated her concern and the woman sighed, knowing that he wouldn't listen to her warnings. Instead, she just nodded softly and disappeared into Jarta's tent. Squaring his shoulders, Merlin checked to make sure that no one was watching him, and ducked behind the tents.

He had to hide more than once when he heard a voice heading his way, but apart from that, Merlin somehow made it around to the back without being seen. It wasn't hard to spot Arthur, but Merlin gritted his teeth in annoyance when he saw that the prince was being guarded. Not that he seemed to be going anywhere, however. Arthur was sitting on the floor, his back against a sturdy pole. His hands were chained above his head to the pole, and although he had a glare on his face that caused a shiver to go down Merlin's spine, it was clear that he had been effectively restrained.

Wondering if he would perhaps be able to get away with it, Merlin approached the guard. It all depended on who it was, and Merlin nearly laughed aloud when the man turned to face him. It was the same man that had tried to help him on Merlin's very first night in the camp. That hadn't been the only occasion that he had put himself out for the child though, often sneaking him extra portions of food or allowing him closer to the fire when Jarta was in a bad mood.

"What are you doing here, Merlin?" The man sighed, sounding exasperated even if there was a small smile of greeting on his face. Merlin could see Arthur's head turn at the man's voice and the scowl on his face only deepened. It was that look that reminded Merlin that although Arthur was older than him, he was as much of a child in the bandit's eyes as the warlock was. For some reason, that gave him courage, but his silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Oh for heaven's sakes, Jarta is already furious with you, this is pushing it." The man muttered, moving off to one side slightly. Merlin frowned, taking a step forward in order to see what he was doing. A small fire was burning with a pot resting over it. As Merlin watched, the man spooned some into a bowl, handing it to Merlin with a spoon.

"You're the slave here, not me, you feed him." The way that it was said meant that Merlin did nothing but roll his eyes about his position, taking the offered bowl. Arthur's head, however, shot up and his eyes widened in something that could resemble pure shock as he watched Merlin approach him. The guard backed off a few spaces, clearly realising that Merlin wouldn't risk Jarta's anger just so that he could look at their prisoner. Merlin approached Arthur slowly, crouching down in front of him and dipping the spoon in the bowl.

"Don't." Arthur turned his head around, and Merlin recoiled as if the prince had slapped him at the contempt in his voice.

"You need to eat."

"I won't let you poison me." Arthur muttered, still facing the other way, and Merlin could only stare at him in anguish.

"You think that I would hurt you?" He cried, forgetting to keep his voice as he placed the bowl on the floor before he threw it at something. Or rather, someone.

"Oh, I don't know." Arthur responded sarcastically, gesturing to where his hands were bound over his head and causing the chains to rattle loudly. Merlin felt as if the sound had been intensified somehow, pounding through his head and causing him to flinch again.

"That wasn't my fault." He muttered, glaring at the floor. How was he supposed to explain what was going on? Would Arthur even listen as soon as the word magic was mentioned? Was that why he was so angry, not that Merlin had helped capture him, but because he had used magic to do it.

"Of course not, you're only the slave." Arthur shot back, and Merlin jerked his head up. Never before had he felt as angry as he did in that moment, not even towards Jarta. It was bad enough having the bandits treat him like that, but somehow, having Arthur say it in such disgust made Merlin feel like a knife had been driven into his heart.

"Don't. Don't you dare call me that, don't you look down on me. Not you, just…don't..." The anger went almost as fast as it had come, and Merlin slumped against the ground, feeling exhausted. That had not been the first time that Jarta had used his magic to send him to sleep, and it always left him feeling lethargic and tired for a while after he had woken up. Rubbing a hand over his face, he didn't see the way that Arthur's expression softened slightly as he looked at the appearance of the warlock in front of him.

"What happened to you, Merlin?"

"Magic." Merlin muttered, without thinking about it. Arthur nodded seriously.

"It's evil."

"No, it's not." Merlin spat back. It was bad enough that Arthur had found out that way, not to mention finding out that Merlin was a slave here. The last thing that he was going to let the prince do was talk about magic like that. "It can be good, it can be beautiful… Unless it is in the wrong hands."

"And your hands aren't the right ones?" Arthur sounded almost as tired as Merlin felt as he rested back on the pole, and Merlin realised that it can't be comfortable having your hands bound above your head like that, with no way of getting any respite.

"It's not in mine." The warlock muttered. For the first time in months, he felt truly ashamed. "I had had enough of hiding, I had to run. I was born with magic, Arthur. Even the first time we met, I had it then. Mother says that I used it to heal you from a fever." Merlin purposefully kept his eyes down, not wanting to see Arthur's reaction to the knowledge that Merlin had already used his magic on him.

"I ended up here and Jarta, he…he did something that meant that he has control of my magic. I can't use it any more than you can use magic right now, it's all in his control. All of it." Punching the ground, Merlin breathed heavily for a few moments as he held back tears. Why had he been given magic, surely it had to be something more than being a slave for a bandit.

"I can't get away even if I try, and trust me, I've tried."

"So back at the camp, when you said that you were the bait…"

"I was telling the truth." Merlin muttered glumly, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. "I told them I would have no part of it, but someone found out that we had met before. I was only supposed to stay with the horses, and that was what I was doing. The man you killed when you…when you saved me, it was all a set up to get you away from the group and closer to me. I had no idea what they were going to do until I saw Jarta through the trees. I'm sorry."

"So am I." Arthur mumbled, and Merlin made himself look up again. Maybe there was hope for them to be friends yet?

"I never forgot you, you know." He said softly, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment. "It drove Mother mad how many times I told her that when I was old enough to leave home, I was going to come to Camelot and find you, that we would have all sorts of adventures together." Merlin was certain that he was not imagining the slightly smile on Arthur's face.

"I basically told my father the same thing. For weeks after we got back I kept trying to run away." Arthur admitted, a blush working its way over his face. "It took both Leon and Gaius hours before they got it through to me that my place was in Camelot. I was going to come back for you though. When I became Crown Prince officially, I was going to come back and get you. I have to admit though, Merlin, I don't think I'm the same person as I was back then."

"I could say the same." Merlin muttered, gesturing to himself as he did so. He certainly had changed from the wide eyed innocent boy that Arthur had first met. He had been through too much, he had seen too much in order to still be that person. He wasn't even sure he was the same person that he had been six months ago.

"So are you going to give me that stew or not?" A wide grin split over Merlin's face at Arthur's words and he nodded enthusiastically. He had dealt with enough drunken bandits to know that feeding a restrained prince wasn't going to be a hardship. He didn't know whether Arthur had yet accepted what he had said about the magic, but the fact that it wasn't Merlin who was in control of it must have made it easier. In a way, it wasn't Merlin who had magic right now, it was Jarta, meaning Arthur could think whatever he wanted. But the fact that he was allowing Merlin to feed him was enough to show that he still had some sort of trust for the boy who had once found him crouched in a bush, terrified out of his mind.

"They won't poison you, by the way." Merlin muttered, trying to get himself into a position that would make it easier for them both. "They need you alive to do any good."

Somehow, he could tell by the look on Arthur's face that hadn't come out quite as reassuring as Merlin had been hoping for. Smiling slightly in apology, Merlin didn't say anything else, but began to distract them both by giving Arthur the stew. He had no intention of letting the prince stay as a prisoner, so he needed to know that Arthur had the strength to run when the time came to it. If that meant acting his role as a slave, then so be it.

Merlin kept the spoon as steady as he could, almost biting his lip in concentration as he spooned the food into Arthur's mouth. He got most of the way through before he realised with a start that they were being watched. The bowl almost went flying as he whirled around, only to see Jarta and Dantor both standing there, watching them. Dantor looked amused, almost as if he knew that something was coming, whereas Jarta looked nothing short of furious. Merlin swallowed slightly, climbing to his feet in order to face them, putting himself in front of Arthur as he did so. At the back of his mind, however, he knew that they weren't there for the prince. They had come for him, and the fact that he had gone against Jarta's orders by seeking out Arthur.

"Are you trying to be big and brave again, Merlin? You know what we have said about that." Jarta began, almost conversationally, and Merlin shifted. When his master was angry, he shouted. When his was furious, however, he had a mocking note to his voice, something that caused shivers to go down Merlin's spine and meant he was almost trembling where he stood. Right now, Jarta sounded more patronising than the child had yet to hear him, meaning he knew just how much trouble he was in. He could almost sense that Arthur was tensing behind him, and whilst part of him was slightly touched, he just needed the prince to keep himself out of trouble as much as he could.

"I was just giving him something to eat." He muttered, trying to avoid making eye contact with the bandit. Whilst Jarta was still able to make him shudder, Dantor simply scared him. The other man had never let it go that Merlin had gotten away with vanishing their gold and not replacing it, a fact that Jarta seemed to be aware of. Whenever he felt like his slave needing punishing, Jarta let Dantor do it.

"You lied to me, Merlin."

"I didn't! I just…didn't tell you the whole truth." Merlin swallowed as Jarta just continued to stand there, looking a mixture of amused and bored by the proceedings. In a way, Merlin knew why. At the end of the day, the warlock couldn't do anything of a consequence without the man knowing about it and being able to stop him with just a thought.

"You didn't tell me that you knew our prince there. Luckily one of the boys overheard you talking to Petra."

"Technically you never asked." Most people would have learnt after six months when to keep their mouths shut. But Merlin had never been good at not having the last word, it was why it had been so hard for him back in Ealdor to keep himself to himself despite the other boys' teasing. Here in the camp, if he didn't try and stick up for himself slightly, he would be at everyone's beck and call. Answering back tended to annoy the bandits, and after Jarta was forced to step in more than once to stop Merlin being killed, he had forbidden the rest of them to use Merlin's services, claiming that the boy was his. It had been Merlin's way of surviving, yet he still hadn't learnt when to stay quiet.

"Stay still, Merlin." Merlin gasped at the icy note in Jarta's voice even as he felt his eyes flash as his magic responded to the man's wishes. He was thrown onto all fours, and it didn't matter how much he strained against the hold, his own magic was too strong for him to struggle physically. He was able to move his head, however, and could see Dantor approaching after a nod from Jarta.

"No! No, please, don't!" Any attempt at being brave in front of Arthur vanished as the thirteen year old realised what was about to come. He could feel his body trembling in the hold even as Dantor approached slowly, chuckling as he did so.

"I told you that I wasn't going to let that go unpunished."

"Please, no, I didn't do anything. Please, make him stop, I haven't done anything wrong!" Tears were flowing from his eyes as Dantor reached him, his foot connecting with Merlin's ribs. Yet the child didn't move, still held in position by the magic and Merlin could do nothing but grunt, his breath catching at the blow.

"Please, I'll be good, I swear…"

"You say that every time, boy. Dantor, show him what happens when he defies me like that." Jarta propped himself up against a tree, arms folded over his chest as he glared down at Merlin. The warlock knew that he must have crossed a line this time, something that meant that Jarta was not going to let the matter go, no matter how much Merlin grovelled. His arms shook with anticipation over what was to come, yet his face flushed in humiliation. He would do anything to stop this from happening here, in front of Arthur, yet he knew that if he made his thoughts known, it would only make it far worse. They would make him do something worse if they knew how upsetting it was for the child to be punished in front of someone that he had come to idolise over the years. Instead, Merlin gritted his teeth as Dantor kicked him again.

"No!"

"Leave him alone." Arthur's voice might have been barely above a whisper compared to Merlin's scream, yet everyone heard it. It seemed to hold a commanding note that Merlin had never heard before, not even from Jarta. In that moment, he realised that Arthur was not only a leader, he was the future king. It seemed that the power to make men listen to him had already been drilled into him considering the way that Dantor stopped, glancing back to Jarta for instructions.

The lead bandit pushed himself away from his tree, eyebrows raised in amusement. He walked forward and crouched down next to Merlin, take the warlock's chin in his hand and turning the boy's head towards Arthur even as the rest of Merlin's body remained locked in position.

"Did you hear that, boy? The mighty prince thinks that we will listen to him. But the fact that he is willing to speak up for the sake of a slave -," he paused long enough to let go of Merlin, releasing the magic at the same time and causing the boy to crash down onto the floor,- "means that we might be able to have a little fun."

As Jarta straightened up again, Merlin curled in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he tried to protect himself from any other blows that might come his way. Nothing happened, however, apart from a hammering sound. Carefully lifting his head, Merlin swallowed down a sob when he saw Dantor attach another set of manacles to a pole that was just opposite Arthur.

"No, please…" He moaned, shaking his head slightly even as Dantor finished what he was doing and walked over to Merlin. Some sort of signal must have been given when the child wasn't looking, for Dantor didn't even hesitate but grabbed Merlin by the back of the collar. Choking slightly, Merlin offered very little resistance as he was dragged over to the pole and his arms forced above his head. Letting his head rest back on the post, Merlin simply sighed as the manacles were locked around his wrists. Considering what he thought was about to happen, this came as something of a relief.

"Dantor, guard them. Keep your distance, let them speak all they like, it might work to our benefit. But let no one approach. The plan is the same with the prince, he is to be given food and water at regular intervals, I need him in good condition if the ransom is to be paid. As for our little slave there, he gets nothing until his master sees fit. No one is to approach him, not even Petra. In fact…"

Jarta turned back to Merlin and the warlock groaned as he felt his magic being used yet again. A sort of shield settled over him, and whilst he could still hear and see everything perfectly clearly, he knew what had just happened. No one would be able to get close to him until Jarta lowered the boundary again. He mutely shook his head, eyes pleading with his master to let him go, but Jarta simply glared at him one last time and walked off. Dantor set up position a little way off, and Merlin realised only then that the original guard was no longer there. Had it been a trick, had he gone to get Jarta whilst Merlin had been talking to Arthur?

"Are you okay?" Whilst Dantor did seem to be out of earshot, Arthur kept his voice low and soft. Merlin sniffed, drawing his legs up to his chest and wincing as his newly bruised ribs protested at the movement.

"I'm going to kill him. One day I'll get free from him and then he will suffer."

"Don't think like that, Merlin. It will get you nowhere, trust me." In a way that he hadn't listened to Petra, Merlin found that he was listening to Arthur. After all, how could he not when he had spent years declaring the boy was his best friend, despite the fact that it had been years since they had seen each other.

"Why not? It's not like I'm ever going to be able to act on it, he has my magic." Merlin mumbled, craning his head forward so that he could rest it on his knees and sighing. Who was he kidding, he was never going to be free of Jarta whilst the spell remained in place that bound Merlin's magic to the man's will.

"I'll get you out of here." Six months ago, Merlin would have believed what Arthur said. He would have hoped that the prince would find a way and that it would only be a matter of hours before they were both running off. But six months as a slave had dampened Merlin's optimism and he just offered a small smile. He was still grateful that Arthur would think about trying to save him after finding out about his magic, even if he didn't think that it was actually possible.

"Maybe you should think about getting yourself out first." He muttered in response, feeling another wave of weariness flood through him. He didn't know if Jarta was doing anything new, or whether it was still the remnants of the earlier magic, but he was feeling utterly exhausted. Dropping his legs from his chest, he awkwardly curled them around the pole and leant his weight back on it, trying to get comfortable.

"Get some rest, Merlin." Arthur said softly, and Merlin might have made some comment back if it wasn't for the fact that he was now struggling to keep his eyes open. "I'm going to get us out of here, both of us. I promise."

Despite his scepticism, despite the fact that every time he had tried to run away, his own magic had dragged him back to face Jarta, Merlin found himself smiling at Arthur's words. In a type of innocence that only a child could possess, no matter what they went through, he found himself believing Arthur.

Maybe the prince would be able to find them a way out? Maybe he would free Merlin from Jarta? But right now, all Merlin could think about was the fact that they were back together again before he fell asleep, awkwardly chained to a pole.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and support, they really mean a lot!**

"Merlin? Come on, Merlin, look at me?"

Merlin simply shook his head with a groan at Arthur's words, keeping his eyes shut and his head resting awkwardly on his knees. It was killing his neck, but it helped him to hide away from the world, pretend that he was somewhere else rather than here. Unfortunately, in the past he had always tried to pretend that he was off having an adventure with the future king of Camelot. Yet this time, that was precisely what was happening, and it wasn't nearly as good as his dreams.

Three days he had been chained to the pole. Three days of being forced to watch Arthur eat – as much as the prince tried to resist, he was at a severe disadvantage compared to the bandits, not only with being chained to a pole, but the fact that he was still a child in their eyes. Arthur had struggled, he had demanded that Merlin be given some as well, yet the bandits had just laughed, barely even sparing a glance over to the starving slave. He had been given water – a meagre amount – once a day and he could feel that Jarta was using his magic to make sure that no true harm came to him. His master could monitor his condition, and when Merlin no longer had the strength to survive, he would be released. But first, he had to get to that point of desperation.

If he was honest, Merlin would have said that he was already there. His head was pounding, throbbing mercilessly behind his eyes and causing any sort of light or movement to intensify the pain even more. His stomach had stopped growling in protest at him, but was instead clenching uncomfortably. The young warlock wasn't completely sure whether he would be able to stomach food even if he was given any right now.

"Merlin. Look at me." Having spent so long in slavery now, Merlin had become somewhat used to following orders when they were delivered in a certain tone of voice. It appeared that it didn't matter whether it was bandits or princes giving that order as his head slowly lifted. Arthur was pale, but seemed otherwise unhurt from his ordeal, even if his eyes were still burning with the indignation of being held hostage. Merlin wondered how long that would last for – he had fought for months against being a slave before realising that there was nothing he could do about it. The sooner Arthur accepted his situation, the better. Yet somehow, he got the feeling that Arthur was never going to accept his place as a prisoner. He might appear to, but the warlock just knew no matter how long the prince was here for, as soon as Arthur got the chance to escape, that was precisely what he would do. Merlin almost envied him, wishing that he had the will power to keep fighting for that long.

"What?" Merlin rasped, his throat burning in the effort to talk. Arthur seemed to grimace in sympathy. He offered some sort of half shrug, something that only caused the chains binding him to rattle loudly and Merlin to wince again. Every sound made was almost like a knife going through his head and Merlin wasn't sure how much more of it he could actually take.

"Just needed to check you were still alive."

"Oh don't worry, we won't let him die." As Arthur immediately sat up straighter, his head lifting and glaring defiantly as Jarta walked into view, Merlin once again shrunk in on himself. Maybe if he was as small as possible, they would just forget that he existed? But no, he knew that wouldn't work either, not when there was no way of getting food if they didn't remember him. He whimpered slightly as someone came closer to him before realising it had to be Jarta. The man was the only one who could pass through the shield. Merlin found that he was biting his lips, trying to hold back tears as Jarta grasped his chin – albeit in a gentler manner than normal – and rolled the warlock's head around to face him.

"Have you had enough, Merlin? You know that you can't lie to me." Merlin knew that – it was why he had only got away with not saying anything about Arthur simply because the man hadn't directly asked. If he had, then Merlin would have had no choice but to tell the truth. The binding of the magic bound more than that, and Jarta was aware of what was going on in Merlin's mind to a certain degree. The boy didn't answer, just gave the smallest nod of his head. Jarta didn't respond either, but moved away. Merlin felt the accumulation of magic behind his eyes before a soft breeze washed over him, informing the warlock that the shield had been taken down. Merlin didn't look up, he didn't even move as someone else stepped closer and began to unchain him.

It was only when that same person grabbed him under his upper arm and hauled him to his feet that Merlin seemed truly aware of what was going on. He wobbled violently and would have fallen if it wasn't for the support of the person. They didn't seem too happy at his lack of co-ordination, but before anything could be said, someone else cut in.

"Let me." It just showed how much Jarta valued Petra, if not actually feel for her, as he didn't protest as his other slave cut through the bandits. She wrapped one slender arm around Merlin's waist, taking his weight and sending the thief on his way with a shrewd look. She then proceeded to gently take hold of Merlin's wrist – apologising when he flinched at the contact with the sores the manacles had left – and drew it over her shoulder.

"Are you all just going to stand there and watch?"

"Back to work." Jarta ordered, sending his men on their way after it was apparent that Petra wasn't happy. He looked at the pair of them for a long moment, his two slaves, his two _belongings_ and simply shrugged.

"Take him back to the tent, clean him up. I want him back at work by tomorrow morning." If Merlin had been thinking straight, he would have been amazed at the time frame he had just been given. Jarta was normally relentless, but Merlin didn't realise that the bandit had been monitoring his condition closer than the warlock realised. Merlin wouldn't be able to be back at work any sooner, not unless the leader wanted to lose his most prized advantage over anyone and anything. Petra slowly started walking Merlin away from the holding area, taking it one step at a time as he struggled to hold his own weight, but the warlock's head twisted around.

Peering over Petra's shoulder, he locked eyes with Arthur. The prince tried to smile at him encouragingly, clearly trying to tell him to go and to keep himself out of trouble this time. But his eyes were showing the dismay at realising that he was going to be left here on his own now. With no Merlin to focus on, the prince would instead be subjecting to thinking about his own situation and just how helpless that seemed to be right now. Petra caught Merlin's gaze, also looking towards Arthur and sighing softly.

"It took me long enough to persuade him to unshackle you, Merlin. I can't help him, none of us can." She seemed to smile apologetically at Arthur, and to Merlin's surprise, he smiled back. Arthur was a prince; he knew that something like this was always a danger. It was one thing having an acquaintance in the camp; it was another thing entirely having a friend. Merlin had shown what would happen if anyone tried to provide aid and Arthur wouldn't have anyone hurt on his behalf. As the thought flickered through Arthur's head, his gaze suddenly turned sharp.

"Merlin?" Waiting until the weaving boy's eyes had finally settled on him properly, Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Stay out of this. Don't do anything that would get you hurt."

"You're not my master." Merlin muttered, suddenly seeming to sag against Petra even more. She took that as her signal to get him moving once again and proceeded to carry out the slow task of getting Merlin to put one foot in front. They had almost reached the edge of the area when Arthur's whispered response carried on the gentle breeze.

"No, but I'm your friend."

Merlin froze, clearly wanting to go back to Arthur, but Petra's grip tightened. She gave him no choice but to continue forward. This time, Merlin was almost struggling against her, wanting to do something to help Arthur. He had revealed that he had magic, in the worst possible way. He had shown how far he had fallen since they had last met, done things that he was so ashamed of that he didn't think that he would ever get over it. But yet, even after all of that, Arthur was still prepared to turn around and say that the warlock was his friend. As Petra steered him away from the area, Merlin found that his gaze was on the floor. Part of it was because he didn't want to look at the smirking faces of the bandits, but it was also because he was thinking. If it was the last thing that he did, he had to get Arthur out of here.

"Come along, Merlin." Petra could clearly sense his hesitation and knew if Merlin was given the chance, he would have gone back to Arthur, regardless of the consequences. Her grip around his waist tightened as she steered him into the tent, yet her touch was gentle as she guided him to his usual corner. Merlin could only sit there, his mind racing, his head throbbing and his eyes almost dropping in exhaustion as she fussed about in the far corner. He couldn't even bring himself to react when Petra knelt down next to him and softly began wiping a rag dipped in warm water over his arms. Sucking in a sharp breath as it brushed over the sensitive skin where the shackles had been cutting in, Merlin jerked himself back to reality.

"What happens now?" He whispered, his voice still not sounding any clearer than before. He knew that he had overstepped the mark with Jarta, the fact that the bandit had been prepared to leave him there for three days was proof enough of that. The weaker Merlin was physically, the weaker his magic was, Jarta _knew_ this. It just meant that he had been truly trying to drive a message home.

"Shh, Merlin."

"Tell me." It would have sounded like a demand if it wasn't for the fact that his voice cracked half way and instead, it came out as more like a sob. Petra sighed, putting down the rag and pulling over a bowl of stew.

"Sit back." Merlin did as he was told and allowed her to spoon some into his mouth, finding that it actually wasn't making him feel any better. In fact, it was almost making him feel worse as his stomach tried to rebel against the treatment it had been through, but Petra ignored his pushing hand. Instead, she continued to steadily feed him before answering, and after a while, Merlin found that he was beginning to settle.

"They are sending the ransom note to Uther in an hour."

"They haven't done it yet?" Merlin almost forgot to mimic Petra's actions and whisper, and it was only the girl's sharp look that meant he didn't quite shout what was going through his mind. He would have thought that they had done that the moment Arthur had been restrained or risk the prince escaping.

"By leaving it, we could be anywhere, not just a matter of hours from where their camp was." Petra explained softly, seeming to realise that if she gave Merlin the information that he wanted, he would be less likely to get himself in trouble. The warlock nodded, but then quickly stopped as he realised that just sent waves of pain through his head rather than anything productive.

"But what happens to me?" He whispered. It wasn't anything to do with needing to keep his voice down or anything like that which made Merlin speak quietly. It was because he was sounding his age – just like any other thirteen year old terrified and exhausted. He was tired of living in fear, but as Petra smiled and just stroked back his hair gently, Merlin knew that he wouldn't get an answer. If she did know what Jarta had planned, she wasn't going to tell him.

"You should get some sleep. I'll find something to help your wrists." Merlin didn't respond, but instead just rolled away from her. He knew that he was being rude, that Petra was properly the only reason why Jarta had let him go at all, but his mind was firmly stuck on the chained up prince. Arthur had tried to help him, he had been prepared to put aside everything he knew, believed and had been taught in order to make sure that someone who he considered to be a friend was safe. It may have failed, but Merlin couldn't let it go. Not only with trying to stop the bandit from killing him in the first place and subsequently leading to Arthur's capture, but the way he had continued to try to get the men to give Merlin something to eat.

Feeling a soft rug being draped over him, Merlin smiled sleepily. It may have been the middle of the afternoon, but he had barely slept for days now due to his uncomfortable position and lack of food. He was vaguely aware of Petra humming something, her hand brushing through his hair, but Merlin suddenly sat up.

"Tell me! You'll tell me if anything happens, won't you? Please, say you'll wake me up!" There was such a sense of urgency in his voice as his words all but blurted out, Petra had no choice but to agree. She promised that she would be gently pushing him back down into a laying position, her hand resuming its previous action whilst she continued to hum.

Merlin slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping to be able to recover from what had just happened and therefore be of some use to the prince. Arthur had tried to save him, at the cost of his own freedom. Merlin might have already lost his freedom, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to at least attempt to return the favour, no matter what it ended up costing him. Yet even as his eyes closed and his breathing evened out, a fiery determination erupted in the pit of Merlin's stomach, sending a flood of warmth through him as he fell asleep.

He was going to get Arthur out, no matter what.

MMM

Merlin didn't realise how deeply he must have been asleep until there was a voice calling his name and a hand shaking his shoulder. It took him more than one attempt to open his eyes, but when he finally got them peeled open, it was to find Petra standing over him with a concerned look on her face.

"Wha' is't?" Merlin slurred, struggling to sit up. His body didn't want to co-ordinate with his mind, however, and he ended up just slumped.

"It's the prince, they're bringing him here." Almost immediately, alertness came flooding back to Merlin and he leapt to his feet.

"What?"

"They've just sent out the message to the king, and apparently they want to tell Arthur what is going on. They are planning something, I'm sure. Just stay quiet, child, you don't want to draw attention to yourself."

"But-," Merlin didn't like to be told to just stay quiet. So many of the bandits treated him like he was invisible even if they did expect him to continue running around after them regardless of how he was treated. So when someone that he was allowed to disobey tried to tell him what to do, Merlin found that he immediately bristled. Petra –more than used to the child ignoring her – leant over and grasped his wrist lightly.

"Merlin, if you draw attention to yourself, do you know what they will do? They'll make you use your magic against Arthur."

"No!"

"Then stay quiet." Realising that he wouldn't be the one to suffer – at least, not physically – should he misbehave, Merlin bit his lip and nodded. He was just in time, for no sooner had Petra let go of his wrist did the tent flap swing back. Jarta walked in confidently, his lip twisting into a sneer when he saw that Merlin was awake.

"About to try and more heroics, my little pet?" Merlin had to clench his jaw in order to stop him from saying what was truly on his mind, but he lowered his head and kept back in the corner. Jarta snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. The sound of a commotion outside of the tent caused Merlin to immediately look that way, and Jarta smiled again.

"Try anything, Merlin, and your last three days are going to seem like a breeze, do you understand?" Merlin didn't answer, too busy swallowing hard as Dantor stepped into the tent, an unpleasant look on his face. He drew back the flap, fastening it to one side to keep it out of the way, and Merlin found that he automatically took a small step forward, wondering if he would be able to see what was happening.

The sharp crack of a riding whip being flicked over the table violently made him jump and draw his eyes back to his master.

"I said, do you understand?" Jarta growled. Immediately, Merlin could feel his magic beginning to build and the way his knees were beginning to buckle. He knew that if he didn't answer, he would be forced to kneel.

"Yes, Master." He muttered, barely even audible over the ever-closer sounds, but it was enough for Jarta. He had other things on his mind than slaves who had yet to learn their place, no matter how long they had been a captive for.

Three bandits came through the flap first, two of them holding drawn swords and annoyed expressions on their faces. Another three followed in straight afterwards, and the prince was dragged in with them. It was taking all three of them to hold on to Arthur, two gripping his arms tightly despite the fact that his hands had been tied behind his back. The third was holding onto a rope that had been looped around Arthur's neck. For a split second, Merlin had a flashback to when he had first laid eyes on the royal, crouched in a bush. Arthur had had a rope around his neck then as well, but rather than the terrified look in his eyes, this time, he had anger practically blazing out of him. He was struggling with everything he had to get away from them, and even though they had at least ten years and several hundred pounds on him size wise, Merlin could see at a glance they had to fight to keep hold of him.

Jarta cracked the whip again and everyone in the tent fell silent, apart from the small grunts coming from Arthur as he fought to get himself free.

"You wanted to know what we planned to do with you, Sire?" Jarta began almost conversationally. Arthur stopped struggling, but his head lifted and he stared down at his captor coolly. He didn't answer verbally, but unlike when Merlin had tried that, Jarta seemed content to let it go.

"Your father is camped two hours away. We have just sent a message to him informing him of what has happened to his son. He has an hour to respond." Merlin frowned even as Arthur's face clouded over.

"But you said they were two hours away! That's impossible! He'll pay. He has to." Merlin wasn't sure how many people heard the final part, for Arthur's voice had dropped and he had a split second of sounding insecure. The warlock bit his lip, almost making to take a step forward, but it was as if Jarta knew what he was going to do and shot him a warning look. Sighing, Merlin stayed where he was.

"That's a shame then. Sounds like he won't meet his deadline."

"Of course he won't! You've made it impossible to do so!" The men holding Arthur were forced to redouble their efforts in order to keep him still. Eventually, one kicked at the fifteen year old's knees and they pushed down on his shoulders at the same time. Arthur had no choice but to drop to the floor, and the man holding the end of the rope around the prince's neck wound it around his hand a few times. Arthur had to stay still or risk being choked, yet defiance poured from his eyes.

"Why give him a deadline that you have no intention of letting him meet?" Arthur's head was still lifted with pride despite the fact that he was on his knees. He was not easily intimidated, that was for sure.

"I have my reasons." Jarta responded silkily, watching Arthur closely. Sure enough, the prince growled, lunging forward only to be pulled up short by the rope around his neck. Arthur fell still once more, but Jarta had got the reaction he wanted. Merlin could tell that he was almost dying to tell Arthur the real reason behind why they had made sure that Uther couldn't meet the terms of the ransom demand.

"You must have known that you were riding into bandit infested territory when you took this way through the woods?" Jarta took a step closer to Arthur, and Merlin found that he was doing the same thing. He didn't like the way his magic was almost sparking in warning. Something was about to happen, or at least be revealed, and somehow, Merlin knew that it was not going to bode well for the captured prince.

"Maybe the deadline wasn't just for your father? What if it was for whoever else we sent the message to as well? And maybe, just maybe, we've sent messengers in every direction. Eight of them in total, including the one for the king. Seven groups of bandits – as you like to call us – all with the same message. One hour, highest price… whoever gets their deal in first gets their very own prince."

Merlin knew that he couldn't blame it on the dim light this time. There could be no denying that Arthur visibly paled, almost seeming to shrink back as Jarta took another step towards him. The leader leant forward, a mocking smile in place as he traced Arthur's chin with the handle of the whip, the movement both gentle and threatening at the same time.

"You know what that will mean for you, don't you?"

"You'll never get away with this." Arthur spat, pulling backwards from the touch. Jarta simply grinned, eyebrows raising as he glanced over at Merlin.

"I knew someone else who once said that. But just like him, you will learn to accept your place, _boy_." Jarta nodded and the two men holding Arthur's arms hauled him to his feet. The one holding the rope let go, drawing a dagger. Arthur completely froze, but the man simply cut a clean line through the prince's shirt before they tore it off.

"Over the table."

"No!" Merlin wasn't quite sure how he realised, but somehow, he knew what was about to happen. Warning looks be damned, the warlock lunged forward.

"Be quiet and still, Merlin." The boy had just enough time to take one more step before he too was thrown to his knees. He couldn't open his mouth or move a muscle as his magic wrapped around him, but Jarta had made sure that the warlock was facing the table. The men were hauling Arthur up over it, two pushing on him whilst the third tugged on the rope.

Merlin could only watch as they cut the bindings around Arthur's wrists, yanking his arms out in front of him and secured him to the table. It didn't matter how much Arthur bucked and cursed, he wasn't getting up again. Merlin may not have been able to move, but it just meant that a lone tear slipped down his cheek as Jarta dragged the whip teasingly up Arthur's back.

"And you know the good thing about this whole little deal? Us thieves and murderers, we don't really care what condition our prize comes in, as long as he is alive." Arthur seemed to tremble slightly even as his head stayed facing pointedly ahead, refusing to show his fear. But his silence seemed to infuriate Jarta even further and without further ado, he drew back the whip and brought it slashing down across Arthur's back.

From the angle that he was at, Merlin could see a bright red line immediately flare into life, and he was certain that he wasn't imaging the small beads of blood following the line. Jarta grinned in satisfaction and caused the whip to come crashing down again. Arthur let out a small grunt, but it was lost in the sound of someone screaming.

Jarta blinked, jumping in surprise.

"I said silence!" He bellowed, forcing Merlin's magic to bind the warlock even tighter. Never before had Merlin been able to overcome an order on his own and even as the leader tried to regain control, Merlin looked up, overriding yet another part of the order. His eyes were blazing gold, a colour far more pure than how they changed when Jarta used him.

Ever since the first time they had met, Merlin had felt something with Arthur. At first, he had thought it was friendship, but ever since his mother had told him how he had instinctively healed Arthur from his fever, Merlin knew that it was more than that. For some reason, he had always thought of the word destiny whenever he brought those feelings to life, and in a way he couldn't explain, he just knew he was meant to protect the royal. Why else had it been him and not his mother who had found the young prince hidden all those years ago? He almost felt like that was the purpose of his magic, meaning that it didn't appreciate the reason for its existence being compromised as Arthur was hurt.

The whip suddenly glowed a bright orange as it erupted in a fiery heat and Jarta let go with a hiss of pain and anger.

"Take him down!" He ordered, realising that he had no control over Merlin's magic right now. The spell was still in place, but somehow, the threat to Arthur had been enough for Merlin to overcome it. Dantor ducked out of the tent as Merlin's eyes continued to glow, before returning almost immediately, something clasped in his hand.

Merlin wasn't truly aware of what was going on around him until suddenly, a wave of piercing pain broke through the magic. It spiralled out of his control once again as the collar clipped into place and he simply dropped to the floor, writhing slightly as his power was suppressed. Panting weakly, he could only lay there, tears slipping from his eyes as he tried to do something to stop the fiery feeling from flooding his body.

"Jarta, let him go!" Petra cried, running forward and dropping to her knees. Her hands sought of the clasp in the metal, but Dantor grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her back again.

"Leave him alone!" Arthur yelled, struggling against the ties holding him down. At a signal from Jarta, one of the men stuffed a rag into Arthur's mouth, gagging him. The leader himself walked slowly over, crouching down next to Merlin. He placed a hand on the warlock's cheek and turned his head up to face the master, frowning.

"What do you feel, Merlin?"

"B-b-burns… Off, p-please, g-get it o-off…" Nodding to yet another man, Jarta simply held Merlin still as they proceeded to pour something down the child's throat. Merlin didn't even resist the sedative, but allowed it to pull him into the welcoming darkness. He wasn't aware of the deathly silence in the tent as they all waited for Jarta to react.

"Tie him back up." The man ordered, moving back to the centre of the tent and drawing his knife. In one flick, he cut through the binding's holding down Arthur's left wrist. The others immediately hastened to free the prince from the table and dragged him back outside, leaving Jarta lost in thought.

Nothing should have broken his hold over Merlin. The boy had been in his possession for six months. In that time, he had beaten, starved, hurt and worked to the bone. For any other thirteen year old, that would have been enough to make them snap. Yet there seemed to be a hidden reserve of strength to the skinny warlock now sleeping almost at his feet. Something ran deeper than simple fear, something that connected him to Arthur.

Even as he decided to re-do the spell in order to make sure that everything was still holding as it should be, Jarta summoned one of the most learned men in the camp. Even as the old man lowered himself into the chair, not sparing Merlin a glance, Jarta demanded that he told him all that he knew about the rumoured Once and Future King and the warlock by his side.

As Merlin shook in his sleep, Jarta couldn't help but wonder whether he had just stumbled across the prophesised Emrys and the Future King he would help to greatness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you so much once again for all the support. I hope you like what is still to come.**

If Merlin had been thinking straight, he would have tried to hide the second that he regained consciousness. But the collar meant that all rational thoughts were driven from his head and he could do nothing but let out a low moan as alertness returned to him once again. Almost immediately, there was a rough pair of hands shaking him awake, and as Merlin opened his eyes, Jarta's grip shifted to the collar. Before the boy could protest, he had been hauled upright by his neck. Merlin didn't say anything though, not when he felt Jarta playing with the clasp and the metal falling away.

As soon as the control of the collar was removed, Merlin felt his legs give way. He would have fallen if it wasn't for his master wrapping an arm around his chest, steering him over to a nearby chair and forcing him to sit with something that could almost resemble a hint of gentleness.

"Here." Looking blearily up, Merlin saw the cup being offered to him. Once, he might have been suspicious of anything that Jarta gave him, but right now, he was too exhausted to care. He knew the man wouldn't kill him, no matter how much he fought and disobeyed, he was too valuable. Taking a sip, Merlin almost groaned as the cool water soothed his throat. He hadn't noticed how much that one scream had taken out of him, not just straining his vocal cords. Going against Jarta's orders had come with a cost. The drink helped clear his head slightly and Merlin looked up at his master, trying not to fidget.

Jarta was watching him with an unreadable expression, almost as if he knew something about Merlin that the warlock himself didn't. Considering his whole life was in Jarta's hands at the moment, Merlin didn't like the look and swiftly dropped his gaze.

"You do realise that the leaders of all the groups around us will be here within the next few moments, they are approaching as we speak, coming to claim your prince."

"He's not my prince." Merlin muttered, realising that no matter how much he might wish for Arthur to be his friend, the other boy would never be able to be his prince. Merlin wasn't under the rule of Camelot, and now that Arthur knew about his magic, knew that he never could be. It was one thing for Arthur to accept him out here, where he needed all the friends he could get. It was another thing to be letting him back into the city and therefore actively committing treason.

"I think he might be, even without you knowing." Jarta murmured, thinking back on what he had been told about the prophecy. "But that doesn't matter. Strong leaders are coming here, Merlin, all of whom know what you can do and have both threatened and tried to bribe me for your services over the last six months. Do you know how much I've had to protect you from?"

"I'm sorry, Master." Merlin really wasn't, but he knew what was expected of him now. He knew when he had to play the obedient slave in order to simply survive.

"Why did you have to choose now in order to start fighting back?" Jarta murmured, seeming to be talking to himself more than the warlock sitting across from him.

"What are you going to do to me?" Merlin whispered, finally managed to meet Jarta's gaze again. He knew that they weren't just talking about this for the sake of it. Jarta was planning something, something to make sure that he still had his most valuable weapon for when the other leaders arrived. Any hint of weakness, any sign that Merlin wasn't completely under his control and he knew that would be exploited, that Merlin would either be taken from him or killed.

"We have to redo the ritual. It's the only way." If Merlin ever looked back on that moment, he might have said that Jarta almost looked sad about it. It was as if he was genuinely sorry about what he would have to do to the boy again.

"No, no, please…" Merlin put the drink down, his hand running subconsciously over the mark on his arm that was the left over reminder of the last time that the ritual had been performed. He knew that he would have the scar forever now. Even if he did manage to escape, he would always bare the mark of what had happened.

"You leave me no choice. You are overcoming it and that cannot be allowed to happen." Merlin swallowed, holding back tears as he looked at the floor. He didn't want to go through that again, he didn't want to make sure that Jarta's hold over him was absolute. The boy had no idea it was because something stronger was at work – his destiny with the future king. His magic existed to help Arthur, meaning it didn't matter how many times or different ways his magic was chained, it would rebel.

"Please…"

"But I also don't have time to perform it before they get here. It will have to be done tonight. They can see the prince, then they will be made to leave whilst we decide which offer that we shall accept. My men can do that, and we will carry out the ritual. Come morning, not only will we have a fine ransom in our hands, you will once again be properly back under my control. We'll be unstoppable, Merlin, you'll see."

"What if I don't want to?" Merlin muttered, refusing to look his master in the eye as he spoke. Jarta barely even blinked, and Merlin didn't notice the man was moving until he was pulled from his seat, the grip around his upper arm almost bruising.

"Have you still not realised that after all of this time, what you want doesn't matter?" Jarta almost growled, pulling Merlin to the front of the tent and pushing him through the flap. "Go and clean those pots."

Following the man's eye line, Merlin sighed heavily. It was clear that all the time he had spent tied to the post, no one had washed anything. Not through laziness (although Merlin suspected that might have something to do with it), but because Jarta was clearly trying to make him have to work. Shrugging his arm out of Jarta's grip, Merlin walked slowly over. He knew that there was no point in protesting or arguing back, he was lucky to have got away with what he had done so far. The warlock didn't look back, but proceeded to start shifting the pots over to the river.

Ignoring the way that there always at least one bandit looming over him, Merlin set to work. It didn't matter how many scathing comments they made or how many times they knocked over the pile of clean pots so that he had to do at least a couple again, Merlin wouldn't rise to the bait. He knew full well that the threat didn't just come from other leaders, but from within their own camp. After all, gaining control of him would mean gaining control of these men, something that even a weak minded fool would want.

Merlin had only been at the river for a few moments when he heard the sounds of the other bandits arriving. The man watching him at the time cuffed him somewhat lightly over the head, told him to stay put and headed off so that he could be part of the procedure. Merlin, however, simply dropped the pot and rose stealthily to his feet, creeping after him. By hiding behind Jarta's tent, he was able to get quite a clear view over what was going on, seeing the burly men dismounting from their horses and snapping at slaves to do something about it. All of them looked to be at least twice Jarta's size, making Merlin realise why the man was so determined to make out that everything was fine and his power was just as strong as ever.

But the bandits didn't hold Merlin's attention for long. They had clearly come here for business and nothing else and so were not prepared to waste time on small talk. Merlin had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out as Arthur was manhandled into the centre of the camp. They had left his shirt off him, making the two lash marks clear for all to see. Merlin had been in the camp long enough to know why – it was a sign that Arthur was a fighter and force was needed in order to keep him under control. Yet pushed to his knees with his hands tied behind his back and his mouth silenced, the prince looked nothing more than a child surrounded by the men.

The men didn't waste any time, and Merlin found himself flinching back as Arthur squirmed, trying to get the hands off him as he was inspected like he was nothing more than some form of cattle. The touches became more aggressive, more intimate and Merlin found that he was stepping forward, his magic coiling unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach again. Arthur was his friend, he was not going to let him be treated like this.

"Enough." Jarta's voice cut through Arthur's muffled cries of protests and Merlin's head shot up. But his master wasn't looking at the prince, he was looking straight at Merlin, shaking his head warningly. Merlin swallowed hard and forced himself to step back, once again hidden from view. Jarta knew that to make any money on Arthur, he had to be strict. He might make the prince squirm, but no real harm would come to him now, it gave the aggressor too much of a hold.

"Dantor, take him away." Merlin knew that he was not the only one who let out a sigh of relief as Arthur was hauled to his feet and dragged away. Jarta, however, continued. "You know the deal, best offers with me by sunrise and I'll decide then. This meeting is over."

Most of the men knew a dismissal when they heard one and all mounted their horses again. All but one. Waiting until the thundering hooves had disappeared into nothing, the giant of a man stepped forward.

"The prince, sweet as he might be, isn't all that I have come for. Your slave, Jarta."

"No. How many times must we have this discussion, Merlin isn't for sale." Said warlock found that he was inching closer again. Only this time, it wasn't to be able to see what was going on or anything like that, it was because Jarta was taking control of his magic. The bandit was moving him into position in order to act should the need arise. Merlin knew that at this moment in time, he could potentially fight Jarta's control, but he also knew that it would end badly. The opposing bandit would kill Jarta, take Arthur and probably find a way of neutralising Merlin. If Merlin protested now, he knew that everything was likely to be lost.

Instead, he let his master take the magic. However, there was a look of strain on Jarta's face that Merlin wasn't used to seeing. He might not have actively been fighting the hold, but his magic was after its independence now that it had had a taste. Jarta had to fight in order to get it to listen, and as the man glanced over at him, Merlin found that he was shrinking back. He didn't want to have to do this ritual again, but he knew in that one look that he would have no choice. Jarta was going to make sure he regained control, no matter what it took.

"We'll just see about that then." The huge man snarled, reaching for his sword. Merlin didn't even think about what was happening as Jarta seized the magic and constructed a shield in front of him. As the man swung, the force of the magic was so great that not only was his sword deflected, he was bodily thrown back a pace or two. Merlin exhaled shakily, resting one hand on the tent pole as the magic drained away again. It seemed that Jarta was not the only one struggling with this arrangement now.

"This isn't over, Jarta. I will have them both."

"Why?" There seemed to be such genuine curiosity on Jarta's face that Merlin frowned. It was almost as if the man didn't just want them both because they were good prizes to have separately, but almost as if they were worth so much more together.

"I think you know why. Until tomorrow…" The man climbed from the floor and leapt onto his horse. Merlin didn't like the way that his parting words seemed more of a threat than anything else, but only just stepped back in time to avoid being flattened by the flying hooves.

"Go and get some rest, Merlin. I should have known you would be listening in to that. Tomorrow, you say goodbye to your prince. But tonight, tonight we show all those who doubt me precisely why they shouldn't try and double cross me like that. You will need your strength about you, and it has been a trying few days. Go."

Merlin knew that it was nothing to do with his own welfare that Jarta was letting him have an afternoon off, but because he needed this spell to work. Bandits such as that one seemed to be multiplying, and they all wanted to get their hands on the warlock. Taking a step towards Jarta's tent, Merlin realised that he wasn't the slightest bit tired.

"Can I..?"

"Oh go on then." Jarta muttered irritably, turning on his heel and entering the tent himself. Merlin, however, smiled and hurried around the back, heading towards where he knew that Arthur was restrained. The prince's hands were still tied behind his back, but it was a small silver chain running from his ankle that kept him bound to the post. It was clear they hadn't wanted to untie him, hold him against the post just to tie him back up again. Arthur was staring into nothing, and Merlin was certain that he was trembling slightly.

Dropping to his knees, the warlock crawled the last part, reaching out a hand and resting it gently on Arthur's shoulder. The prince jumped violently, his eyes wide and scared until he realised that it was Merlin. The warlock bit his lip, leaning forward and teasing the gag out of Arthur's mouth.

"Are you okay?" He asked gently.

"Are you?" Arthur shot back, clearly not wanting to admit that he was scared. Merlin gave a shrug.

"Not really. Jarta's repeating the ritual tonight."

"What does that mean for you?"

"That I'll be his slave forever." Merlin muttered, shifting into a more comfortable position and sitting down next to Arthur. The prince moved his foot, the chain clinking loudly as he nudged it against Merlin's leg.

"No, you won't. We're getting out of here."

Despite everything that had happened over the last six months, Merlin actually found himself believing the prince. The fear in Arthur's eyes was being replaced by determination. He seemed to genuinely believe that they would be able to carry this off.

"Can you untie me?" Arthur's voice was soft and uncertain, and Merlin realised that it was a big thing for the prince to have to admit to needing help. Merlin nodded, reaching around until he came to the rope holding Arthur's hands behind his back. But just as he touched the rope, an almighty shock of pain slammed into him. Merlin cried out, flinching back as every muscle in his arms trembled and shook with the force of whatever that was. Watching his hands shaking, Merlin looked up in time to see Arthur school his face back into an expression of neutrality. He hadn't been quick enough though, Merlin had seen enough to know that the shocks had also made it to Arthur.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Guessing that you can't untie me then?" Merlin shook his head, drawing his knees up to his chest and sighing deeply. Unable to stop himself, he glanced at the sky, hating the way that the sun was beginning to set. His magic coiled unpleasantly, almost as if it knew that within just a few hours, it would be firmly restrained again. Not realising that he had sighed out loud, Merlin started when Arthur yet again let their feet bump together.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"What can you do?" Merlin didn't mean to sound harsh, but he was feeling desperate. He saw the hurt flicker across Arthur's face and sighed again. "I'm sorry, it's just… you're tied to a post. There are bandits surrounding this area bidding on who is going to offer the highest price to have you as their slave, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop this because in a few hours, I will barely even be myself."

"It's not up to you to get me out of this, Merlin." Arthur responded quietly, shifting as best as he could so that he could turn to face the other boy. "I know they used you to catch me and that for a time I thought you were responsible. But I know that you are not, I don't blame you. You don't have to try and make it up to me."

"I know. It's just…" Merlin wasn't quite sure how to explain it. When he had started thinking about freeing Arthur, about getting him away from here and making sure that he wasn't sold in the same manner that Merlin had once seen goats sold, something had felt right. He wasn't sure whether it was his magic or just a feeling in his gut. Yet as soon as the thought had flickered through his mind, he knew what he had to do. It was like it was his destiny to help Arthur out.

"I feel like I have to."

"You do?"

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not, Merlin, I… I think I feel the same." Merlin blinked. Ever since he had seen Arthur being dragged in front of all those men, he had felt a lot older than he was. He felt like he had some sort of responsibility to keep Arthur safe, despite just being a boy in the midst of bandits. But Arthur was older than he was, and could fight as well. If he was feeling that same tug, that same bond that seemed to be telling them to help out each other, maybe it was more than just wishful thinking that was making Arthur believe they were going to get out of this.

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want him to do the ritual again! I don't want to be his slave, I want my magic back under my control. I just want to go home!" The words came out faster than Merlin could stop them and his cheeks burned in humiliation as a few tears slipped down them. He angrily brushed them away, determined that he wasn't going to show any sort of weakness in front of Arthur. But he couldn't stop himself; he was genuinely terrified.

"Merlin, listen to me. I won't let him take control of your magic again."

"He already has control, he just wants to reinforce it," Merlin muttered, turning his face away to hide it in his knees. This wasn't the first time the thought had flickered across his head in the last six months, but he found himself wishing he was back in Ealdor, back with his mother, now more than ever. She wouldn't have let anything like this happen to him. Why had he let his temper get the better of him, why had he run away?

"I'm not sure he has, you know. His control seemed pretty absolute before, yet you disobeyed a direct order from him back in the tent. It looked like they had to use some pretty extreme measures in order to stop you." Merlin shuddered, rubbing a hand over his neck as he recalled the sheer agony the collar had sent through him as it had forced his magic back.

"You have to run, Merlin."

"You think if I could, I wouldn't have done so months ago?"

"Merlin, it looks like his control on you is slipping. This could be your one chance to get out of here, get back to your life, back to your mother. You mean to say that you don't want to even give it a try?"

"But I can't untie you, I can't get you free."

"Then you go without me."

"No, Arthur…"

"Merlin, there is no time. By sunrise tomorrow, we both may as well be dead considering the situation we are going to find ourselves in. They're going to have to untie me to take me from the camp, meaning I'll have the chance to run. But if Jarta has regained control of your magic by that point, they'll use you to keep me subdued. He might have had no intention of my father meeting the deadline in time, but the message has still be sent, the king knows what is happening to me. They'll be looking for me."

Merlin knew what wasn't being said. Who would still be looking for him after all this time? A child, even with magic, would not have been able to survive six months in a forest alone. And there was no one in Ealdor who had the skill with any sort of weapon to even try to approach bandit infested territory in order to continue their search. At least, Merlin hoped they hadn't. He had matured in his six months, he knew the consequences of his actions and wasn't sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself if someone had been hurt looking for him. Arthur watched in silence as the emotions played out across Merlin's face and another tear slipped down his cheek.

"You might even run into the patrols if you run now, they'll be able to keep you safe until all of this is over. Please, I'm not sure if I can help you by tomorrow, you have to go now why the time is right."

Whether it was the constant persistence in Arthur's voice that got through to the warlock, or whether he was just so desperate to get home he stopped trying to fight back, Merlin wasn't sure. But he did find himself nodding, slowly kneeling up before bringing his feet out from under him.

"I'll get you some water first, it's the least I can do." Arthur seemed to realise that if he protested, Merlin would just argue back and cause them to lose even more time.

"Thank you."

Offering a weak smile, Merlin leapt up and sped off towards the river. His magic was refusing to settle down, bubbling uncomfortably away under his skin. He didn't have enough control to simply release it when there wasn't an actual danger, but it was fighting back too much to simply stay dormant. It was only when he reached the river that Merlin realised he had no sort of container to transport any water back to the prince and glanced around wildly. Off to one side, hidden under a bush, was a small pot.

Snatching it up, Merlin grinned. It had clearly rolled under there when the bandits had been kicking at his pile only earlier on that day. Never before had Merlin been grateful for their boorish behaviour, but now he found himself sighing in relief at it. It only took him a matter of seconds before he had filled it and was on his way back to Arthur. The camp seemed to be abuzz with activity and Merlin had picked up enough from the last few months to know that it meant they thought there was trouble on the way. Merlin didn't need to ask what – having overheard everything the other bandits had said, he knew that they were expecting a fight when it was revealed who Arthur was being sold to. It did mean, however, that Merlin was able to just slip through relatively unseen. Those who did notice him ignored him, and anyone that might have made a move to stop him didn't see him.

"Here." Keeping his voice soft and quiet this time, Merlin carefully pressed the pot against Arthur's lips, tilting it up so that the prince could drink. How eagerly Arthur did so caused Merlin to frown in concern. He had either been yelling through the gag more than Merlin had heard, or no one had given him anything since when Merlin had been removed the day before. Somehow, the young warlock had a feeling it was a combination of both.

When Arthur had had enough, he titled his head to one side and Merlin immediately stopped. He had had too much experience with having things forced down his throat that he didn't want, there was no way he was going to even vaguely mimic that.

"Merlin, you have to go." Arthur's eyes were slightly brighter after having something to drink and Merlin could see the way his hands were twisting in the ropes. The prince of Camelot was not just going to see there and wait to be sold as a slave to some bandits who most likely wanted him dead.

"I…"

"Merlin, please. Get out, live." There was a hint of desperation in Arthur's voice and it made Merlin realise that the warrior in Arthur had a much better idea of what was going on than Merlin did, despite it being the latter who had lived here for the last however many months.

"But I can't leave you here."

"Merlin, if you don't get out now, I won't be able to come back for you. I'll find you again, I promise." Merlin bit his lip, but nodded. He was used to being told what to do, and it was almost something of a relief to have someone who seemed to care about him be the one giving the orders.

"Now, before anyone sees you." Dropping the pot, Merlin back away. His magic protested, making him want to move back towards Arthur. But the prince shook his head and Merlin found he was listening to the older boy more than his magic. Pushing away the feelings, he forced himself to keep backing up, eyes locked in apology on the prince. When he reached the edge of the trees, he turned.

The woods were dark and cold, and Merlin was forcibly reminded of the night that he had run from home, the night when his life had been turned upside down – and not for the better. He swallowed hard, feeling young and small.

"Merlin, run!" This wasn't soft words of encouragement coming from the prince this time, it was a yell of fear. Merlin glanced around to see Jarta looking absolutely furious, his hand gripping Arthur's hair. As Merlin looked around, he gave Arthur a shake, clearly trying to get Merlin to think twice. Yet Arthur's eyes were telling him something completely different – begging Merlin to go. Despite wanting to go back for Arthur, Merlin knew he had no choice. If he was going to get out of this at all, he had to go now.

But no sooner had he turned to move again, pain exploded through his head as his magic turned inwards. He could hear Arthur yelling, but the world was blacking out as he fell to his knees, doubled over as he gripped his hair in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

It was no good though.

Just as a pair of boots entered his vision, Merlin pitched forward. He never felt the impact with the ground, for he was already unconscious, Jarta standing over him with a sneer on his face and a dagger in his hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for the amazing reviews and support again, I can't tell you what it means to me. Hope you like this next part.**

"No! Leave him alone!" Arthur found that he was suddenly tugging at his bindings as he watched Jarta approaching the fallen form of his friend. He should have known that Merlin wouldn't have been able to truly run, there was nowhere for him to go where he wouldn't be recognised considering they were in a bandit infested part of the forest. From what the prince had picked up and from what Merlin had told him himself, it seemed that the young boy was as much of a prize as Arthur was. But although they were intending to make Arthur some sort of slave, they had already done so with Merlin. They had taken his one form of defence and used it against him.

"Gag him and make sure those bindings are tight, we wouldn't want our little fish to slip through the net now, would we?" Jarta was standing over Merlin as he spoke, but jerked his head back towards Arthur. One of his men strode forward, pulling a rag from his pocket as he did so. He pulled Arthur momentarily away from the post, checking that the ropes around his hands were still tight. Considering there were beads of blood encircling the prince's wrists from where he was trying to pull himself free, the man seemed satisfied and pushed him back again before checking the chain.

"I won't let you hurt him."

"Just hurry up and shut the brat up." Arthur snarled, but could do nothing more as the rag was forced in between his teeth, choking him as the man tied it off tightly behind his head before walking away. Jarta bent down, swinging Merlin over his shoulder with ease.

"Prepare for the ritual."

"You want to do it now? If the others come back before it is complete, you'll be vulnerable. They might even be able to finish it off themselves."

"Then it is your job to make sure that they don't get anywhere near me. I've never felt his magic acting out like this. I don't think the boy has control – of if he does, he hasn't realised it. But I certainly don't have it either and I'm not taking that risk. Especially as scouts report that Uther received the message. He knows that he can't get here in time, but apparently he is still trying to make sure that nothing happens to his precious heir. By the time he gets here, the prince will be gone and I'll have all the magic that I need to rid Camelot of its King."

Jarta shot Arthur a filthy look as he turned on his heel and walked off, taking Merlin's motionless form with him. The young warrior found himself freezing before struggling in earnest. He should have known that he was only ever the bait, that selling him was just an added bonus for what Jarta was truly planning. He had to get out of here, he had to make sure that he could stop his father from walking straight into the trap. He also couldn't help but think that escaping and saving them from something worse happening was the only way he would be able to avoid his father's disappointment at the fact that he had been caught in the first place.

After what felt like an age, Arthur finally stopped trying to pull against the rope, knowing that he wasn't going anywhere. He was breathing heavily through the gag, and every breath he took in made his stomach churn. Arthur tried to remember his training, tried to think about what he had been taught. Ever since Jarl had taken him all those years ago, Leon had made sure that Arthur knew how to fight when he was weaponless and outnumbered. It might not mean escaping, but it would mean taking some of them with him and therefore going down with his pride still intact. He thought that he had handled it, that he knew what he was doing.

Then again, he didn't think that he would have been tricked by a memory from his past and realised just how much of a child he still felt when surrounded by bandits who wanted nothing more than to see him humiliated and his father dead. Arthur forced himself to stop, to think about what he had to do to get out of this. He couldn't break free of the rope, and he wouldn't be able to get out of the chain unless he had the use of his hands. Very carefully, the young prince began moving again.

Only this time, he just moved his fingers. Rather than trying to pull against the rope, he carefully felt for the knot, trying to get a grip on it. Just as he thought he had it, he heard a disorientated high pitched cry come from the direction that Jarta had disappeared in. There was only one person who was young enough to make a noise that high and Arthur found that he was calling out for Merlin. It came out as nothing more than a muffled "mmph", but it was enough for Arthur to realise just how trapped they were.

Jarta had meant what he had said, he didn't want anyone else getting hold of Merlin's powers. Although Merlin wasn't under the rule of Camelot and therefore Arthur shouldn't feel like he was one of his subjects, he couldn't help it. His father had taught him that he had to protect all of his men, and right now, Merlin was the closest thing he had to that. Arthur had sworn that they were going to get out of this, and right now, he intended on making good on that promise.

Blocking out all other noise, Arthur shut his eyes. He just let his fingers do the work rather than allowing his other senses to tell him that it wouldn't be possible. The knot was tight, but Arthur was sure that it was a relatively simple one. If he could just get a grip on it, he should be able to work himself free.

There!

Suddenly, Arthur found that his hands had taken hold of the rope. Rather than pulling against it, he was somehow sliding out from it. It still took him far longer than he was happy about considering he didn't know what was happening to Merlin, but finally, Arthur was able to lean forward again, wrenching the gag from his mouth. He didn't waste time on untying it, he simply left it hanging around his neck as he bent down in order to examine the chain around his ankle.

Arthur couldn't help but let out a groan. If he thought getting out of the rope had been hard, it was nothing compared to how getting out of the chain was going to be. His fingers brushed over the metal, wondering what it would feel like to have a power like Merlin's and simply be able to command it opened. Arthur only just bit back a gasp as the thought flickered through his head. He had wanted to feel like he had magic? Banishing the feeling as quickly as it came, he shook his head and focused his attention back on the manacle again. If anyone ever found out… Arthur was sure that his father wouldn't execute his own son, but he didn't want to risk it.

"So, you're a little escaper, are you?" The voice came from somewhere behind him and Arthur whirled around, stumbling as his feet entangled from where he had been in a tight crouch. One of the bandits was walking towards him, an ugly looking knife in his hand and a sneer on his face. Arthur was sure that he had seen him before, and it was only when the man got closer that he realised that he was one of the men who had held him down when Jarta had beat him.

"Stay back." Arthur warned, trying to sound intimidating in the way that he knew the knights could as he rose to his feet.

"No, I don't think I will. I want some fun, and you provide a good sport, Prince Arthur." Arthur backed away despite himself, cursing the fact that the chain jangled on every step and simply reminded him that there was no where he could run to. He just hoped that it would allow him to reach the trees, that he would be able to find a branch or something there that he could defend himself with. The man quickened his speed, the grin still in place and caused Arthur to do the same.

He was almost running by the time the chain's length ran out. Jerked to a stop, his foot held out behind him, Arthur glanced around frantically. There had to be something he could use to defend himself, something that he could do! His pursuer had also stopped level with the post and just frozen there, waiting until Arthur had stopped and glanced back at him. His foot hooked under the chain.

"No!" Arthur's yell did nothing as the man jerked the chain, pulling Arthur to the ground. Completely caught off balance, the prince fell heavily, only to realise that the man was pulling him back by his ankle. Unable to stop himself, Arthur cried out, desperately trying to grab onto something, but finding there was nothing there in order to stop his journey.

"Good sport indeed. Do you know how many cuts on the human body you can make without causing any permanent damage."

"No…" Arthur was ashamed to admit that his voice came out as nothing more than a whimper and he fell back, panting, as the man finally stopped pulling. He didn't have time to try and get to his feet, however, before the bandit was over him, the knife in hand. Arthur simply laid there, staring up at him and feeling now more than ever that, despite his denials, he was still just a boy. The man made to drop to his knees, only for his eyes to flicker to the trees.

Faster than Arthur could comprehend, he had dropped the knife and grabbed the chain. Looping it over the prince's hands, he held Arthur still as he picked up the knife again, resting it against his neck.

"I know you are there." Arthur slammed his head backwards, causing the man to drop him again with a howl. He let his body fall to the ground even as he caught a glimpse of red through the trees. It was more than just the colour though: it was Pendragon red.

"How observant you are."

The bandit placed his foot on Arthur's stomach to stop him from wriggling away as a tall figure emerged from the trees.

"Leon!"

"Silence, boy. Stay where you are, or I'll kill him."

"You won't have time." Arthur craned his head back in order to see his old friend, and knew by the way that Leon was standing that he had something hidden behind his back.

"I'm warning you." The bandit didn't seem to know what to do. Arthur knew that whilst he would have hurt the prince, it was more than his life was worth to actually kill him, not when so many people had money placed on the boy. He had no real leverage, and he seemed to know it. Not that he had time to do anything about it, however, for no sooner had he delivered his last warning, Leon reacted.

The bandit had no chance as the crossbow bolt flew with deadly accuracy towards him.

Arthur struggled against the chain almost desperately as the man fell. He should have been able to get out of it on his own, it was only tangled around his wrists lightly, not even enough pull for it to jolt his leg. But somehow, he found that his eyes were watering slightly and he couldn't seem to get out of it. It didn't matter that Leon was one man against a whole camp of bandits, not to mention with more on their way with their sights set on Arthur. But none of that registered in the young prince's mind.

Leon was here. He was safe.

"Arthur? Arthur, it's okay, lie still…"

"I can't get it off…" Arthur panted, refusing to stop struggling as he tried to free himself.

"Arthur, stop." The firm note in Leon's voice was enough for Arthur to listen, as it was the same voice that he use whenever they were training together and Arthur was doing something wrong. Arthur fell still, his breath still catching slightly and watched with wide eyes as Leon pulled the chain off from around his wrists and untied the gag from around his neck. Helping Arthur to sit up, he then proceeded to pull out his dagger and use the point of it to pick the lock on the manacle. At long last, Arthur felt it snap off, and knew for the first time in days, he was free.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here." Arthur numbly allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, his mind beginning to process the fact that this might be over. But as Leon pulled him towards the trees – clearly indicating that the rest of the camp were there – Arthur resisted.

"Sire, come on. I was given permission to try and extract you before the knights attack, to make sure that you weren't caught in the crossfire. If we aren't gone when they get here, you might get hurt."

"I can fight, Leon." Arthur retorted, not liking the fact that they were still treating him like a child despite how much training he had gone through.

"I'm not saying you can't, but you are hurt."

Arthur pulled away from Leon's grip, continuing to shake his head as he glanced around at the main body of the camp.

"I can't go yet, there is something that I need to do."

"What? Arthur, please, this is no time to try and prove yourself to anyone. Whilst they have you, they have the upper hand. You know how dangerous that is."

"If I don't go back, they have something that will give them the upper hand no matter what."

"Which is?"

"Merlin."

"Merlin? Isn't that…"

"The boy from years ago, yes. I'm sorry, Leon, but I'm not leaving here without him. Go back to the camp if you want, tell them to stall, tell them to attack, I don't care. But I'm going for Merlin; I swore to him that we were both going to escape from this."

"Then I'm coming with you." Leon's stance had softened into one of compassion as he realised that Arthur wasn't just being stubborn, he wanted to save someone. The knight swiftly reloaded his crossbow and made sure that his sword was loose in his scabbard before handing his dagger to Arthur.

"Try not to lose it."

"Yes, Sire." Arthur grinned, suddenly feeling a lot more confident now that he knew he wouldn't be going back in alone. He caught Leon's eye, who nodded. Without another word, the pair began to run back to the main part of the bandit's encampment.

MMM

Merlin came around to the feeling of a bottle being pressed against his lips and something cold trickling down his throat. As soon as he realised what he was feeling, his reflexes kicked in and he coughed harshly, trying to stop the substance from being swallowed. The bottle immediately disappeared as Merlin's head turned to one side and the boy coughed.

It was only when he managed to regain control of his breathing again that Merlin realised there was something wrong. He hadn't been able to sit up, hadn't been able to do anything other than turn his head away in order to stop whatever had been in the bottle. Gasping, Merlin jerked wildly, but it only confirmed his suspicions. He was tied down onto the same altar that had stolen his magic from him all those months ago, thick leather straps encircling his wrists and holding them down by his waist. There was another strap across his hips and his legs were bound in a similar fashion. As his mind started to work, Merlin realised what the drink must have been.

"No!" Thrashing about as much as he could, Merlin struggled to get free.

"Someone hold him down." He knew that in only a matter of moments, his magic would begin to leak out from him, go wild as all the restraints on it broke. Whilst he knew that might be his only chance to get out of this, he also knew that the chances of him having control over it were almost non-existent. The magic that escaped from him in that form was raw power, something that Merlin knew he would control one day, but hadn't yet developed for that day to be now. Unless his magic specifically thought to release the straps, Merlin knew that he was stuck. It was more likely to lash out at the men surrounding him than it was to untie the warlock. Someone came up to the head of the alter and strong hands were placed on his shoulders, stopping him from bucking up.

"Master! Master, please!" Merlin didn't think about the fact that he was screaming. He hadn't even realised that it was Jarta preparing to do the ritual again, all he knew was that someone was going to take his magic. For all he knew, it was one of the rival bandits coming to claim his power, just as they had threatened to do for all of this time.

"It's alright, Merlin, it's going to be over soon." Merlin lay there, panting as tears fell from the corners of his eyes as Jarta stepped into his vision. The man was free, there was no one else in the camp. It was only in that moment where reality hit home and Merlin realised it was exactly the same as before. Jarta was going to be the one to take his magic.

"No! Please don't, please… I'll do as I'm told, I swear. Don't do this, please!" Hot tears splashed from the corners of his eyes and Merlin screwed them shut as he felt the beginnings of the change happening. His magic was beginning to react to the drug.

"Anyone that is not needed for the ritual, clear the area. We don't know what he is going to do. Set up a perimeter, warn me if anyone approaches." A handful of the bandits disappeared, muttering audible about magic and sorcery. Merlin didn't notice though, he was too busy trying to control the heat that was spreading through his body. He knew that there was nothing he could do in order to hold the magic back, and without warning, a burst suddenly tore from him. His back arched against the straps as he screamed, and he knew that it was the hands holding him down that stopped him from completely straining something.

"Jarta, hurry, I'm not sure I can hold him." Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Jarta nod, a knife in his hand as he began to chant in an eerie voice. Merlin felt his magic rebel, knowing that it was beginning to feel the first shackles being placed back on it and binding it to Jarta's will yet again. He twisted desperately as the magic poured from him, a few of the closest tents simply collapsing as their supports crumbled into nothing but dust.

"Jarta!" The chanting stopped as one of the bandits who had left came running back onto the scene, a bloody wound on his head. "Rackal's men are closing in, they are coming for both of them. Their scout said something about destinies, no idea, but they are here, and they want the boy."

"Well, tell him he can't have him." Jarta shoved the man away, leaping up onto the altar as he did so. Merlin weakly twisted his head away, shaking it in denial about what was about to happen. He felt as if every nerve was on fire, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was almost as if his body was embracing the power of the magic, almost as if it felt as if he was ready to handle it. Jarta seemed to get some feeling of that fact as he hastily began chanting again, drawing the knife across his arm and causing a deep gash to appear.

"No, please…" Merlin moaned, trying to kick out but finding the straps over his legs were simply too strong. He could barely even move, let alone free himself. Jarta ignored him this time, instead continuing to chant. Merlin grunted as he felt the binding on the magic from before yet again forcing him to act. Jarta was using what power he still had to strengthen the bond between them this time. Merlin knew that it didn't matter who he came across or how much he tried to resist, there would be no getting out of it on this occasion.

He could only watch with wide eyes as the knife came towards him. He wanted to look away, wanted to deny that this was happening, but it was as if he had frozen. It was only when he felt the slicing pain across his arm that he snapped out of it, his body jerking as pleas fell from his lips for the man not to do this. Jarta didn't seem to be hearing him anymore, he was too lost in the magic as he rested his good hand over Merlin's wrist, stopping his arm from twisting as he began to lower his own cut to Merlin's.

"Merlin!" Arthur's yell made Jarta jerk away, cursing as the prince came running into sight. There was another man with him, a knight of Camelot if his dress was anything to go by. Arthur was bleeding heavily in more than one place, yet the dagger in his hand quickly made short work of the men blocking his way to the altar. Anyone that even thought of approaching the prince found themselves stumbling back with a crossbow bolt in their chests.

"Get away from him!" Jarta jolted, snapping himself out of simply watching Arthur running towards them and made to mix their blood again. Only the prince seemed to take a flying leap. In one movement, he had bounded onto the altar and slammed his weight into Jarta. In any other occasion, it wouldn't have been enough to move the solid bandit, but Jarta was performing powerful magic and was caught off guard. His arm slipped, missing Merlin's as he tumbled from the altar.

Arthur, however, almost collapsed on top of his friend as his momentum took him too far. A deep cut on his own arm from a bandit's knife was bleeding steadily, and before either of them realised what had happened, Arthur's blood had mixed with Merlin's.

Jarta had only been the one chanting because he wanted to make sure that the spell had been done right. In all honesty, it didn't matter who spoke the words. That was simply to draw the magic out, it had nothing to do with binding it. The magic forged the chains that would be the shackles for the magic, but it was the mixing of the blood that put those shackles in place. Jarta had been moved before he could chain Merlin to him.

Arthur, however, had just finished the spell.

Merlin gasped, only this time, it wasn't in pain or fear. A feeling of peace, of warmth shot through every single ache that he had in his body, his magic immediately settling back down as it recognised its new owner. As the feeling intensified, Merlin's eyes closed and he let out a soft sigh before falling asleep. Arthur didn't realise that he was feeling exactly the same thing, that he had just received his wish to know what magic felt like before he too slumped to one side, breathing softly.

"Arthur!" Leon's fighting intensified as he tried to get to the two boys, but it was too late. The spell had been complete, Arthur was now the one in charge of Merlin's magic. But whereas Jarta's control had been fierce and dominant, controlling as he tried to use Merlin for his own needs, the prince wasn't even yet aware that he had the power. Rather than twisting and rebelling, the magic recognised that it had just been bound to the one whose destiny it was to serve and a golden light arched into the air. It started off as a single beam before splitting, the two halves settling back down over the altar and forming a golden globe over the two sleeping boys.

But it was as if the magic knew that somehow, this was right. Bright flashes of light exploded within the globe, drawing the attention of everyone in the area as they watched in wonder as the raw power expressed itself. The display went on for a few moments before all colour disappeared again. At the same time, both the knights of Camelot and the opposing bandits crashed into the camp from both sides and Leon sprang forward again.

He was thankful that the magic let him approach and quickly took the dagger from Arthur's limp hand. Making short work of the straps, he cut Merlin free, throwing the boy over his shoulder before grabbing Arthur around the waist. He had no idea how he was going to move both of them, but knew that he didn't have a choice. Dragging them clear from the altar, Leon stumbled towards a nearby cluster of trees, adamant that he was going to get his prince away from the fighting if nothing else.

"Sir Knight?" A timid voice made Leon jump even as he lowered the boys down to the ground. A quick glance around showed a young woman heading towards him, leading a horse. Her eyes were wide and scared at the fighting that was going on around her, but Leon could see that she was also a woman who had been through a lot.

"I want you to take this horse. She will bear you well."

"Why?" Leon knew how good at trapping people bandits were. For all he knew, he would get Arthur on the horse and it would take off.

"Because Merlin has a home to get to." She bent down, stroking back the warlock's hair and soothing him as he murmured something under his breath. "He's wanted to go home ever since he got here. I've done what I can for him, but he needs his mother."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Petra. To the men here, I am a no one but a body. I was Jarta's slave, just as Merlin was."

"Was?"

"I don't think he'll be coming after us now." Petra glanced over her shoulder and Leon followed her gaze. He instantly found himself standing up, blocking her view of the camp as he realised quite how ferocious the fighting had become.

"Thank you." Realising that she was being sincere, and was genuinely offering him a way to get them all out of here, Leon reacted immediately. Uther had ordered him to get Arthur out, but then not to come near the camp for a further three days, just in case things had gone wrong. Leon knew that it was Uther's way of protecting Arthur from seeing anything no young man should see and he had agreed. If he remembered rightly, Merlin came from Ealdor – a place he would be able to get to by the following evening. He could get them to safety, then use the horse to gallop back and tell Uther that his son was safe. With the plan formed in his head, Leon hoisted Arthur up and managed to navigate the prince onto the horse. Merlin was a lot easier, he was a lot lighter than Arthur, but it only made the knight frown.

It felt like it had been a long time since the child had had a proper meal. Leon knew that Petra was right, it was time to get Merlin back to his mother. He didn't know how long the boy had been missing for, but the child asleep against the prince's back had looked somewhat haunted. However long it had been, it had been too long.

Resting his hand on Merlin's back to make sure that both boys stayed balanced, Leon clicked his tongue and coaxed the horse into a walk. He had only gone a few paces before he turned and looked back.

"Come with us."

"I…"

"Merlin is going to need you. I don't know why they are asleep, what has happened to them or when they are going to wake up. But you said it yourself, you have tried to be there for him. If they wake up before we reach Ealdor, he is going to need someone to soothe him."

"I think you would be quite good at that."

"I think I'm going to have my hands full of a prince who won't admit that he has been affected by everything that he has just been through, despite the fact that I thought he was going to break down on me earlier. Please?"

Petra looked hesitant, clearly not used to making her own decisions again. But then there was a fierce yell from the fighting behind and she nodded. Leon knew that she was fully aware of what would happen to her if she stayed here. Her dress indicated precisely why Jarta had kept her around, and Leon knew that knights high on adrenaline could be just as bad. She took a step forward anxiously, flinching as Leon drew off his cloak. He simply offered it out to her, and Petra took it, wrapping it around her. It almost drowned her in folds of red material, but Leon simply smiled and once again nudged the horse into a walk.

It was time to get out of here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you so much once again! Apologies to anyone who got a response about six times, it seemed to be acting up a bit and I had no idea if they had sent or not!**

Leon walked the horse slowly, mindful of the two unconscious boys on her back. He had absolutely no idea what was wrong with them, but knew that he couldn't stop for a closer examination until they were further away from the fight. He was only one man: he could not defend three people. Especially not when his duty dictated that he protected Arthur no matter the cost to anyone else, but his heart claimed that he had to look after the boy and the woman as well. Three defenceless people, all under his protection, and he had no idea what to do.

Petra stayed quiet as they walked along, and Leon got the distinct impression that she simply didn't know how to act around him. His cloak almost swamped her, yet she hugged it to herself as if worried he would suddenly snatch it back. She had said that she had been a slave along with Merlin, and judging by her dress and the fact she had a pretty face, Leon knew what kind of slavery she had been entered into.

But at least it told him something about why the boy had been out here. When he had last seen Merlin, he had been playing with Arthur, the two young children not needing to worry about anything when they knew the adults around them would take care of things. He knew that Arthur had grown since then, and it seemed Merlin had as well. Leon wondered whether the bandits had raided the village or whether Merlin had just been unlucky enough to be caught by them. He had no idea that the headstrong youth had tried to find them himself because he thought that they would have offered him a sense of freedom.

What Leon did know, however, that there was magic surrounding Merlin. He had seen what had happened when Arthur had touched him, although hadn't yet realised the full extent of what it had meant for the prince's blood to have mingled with the slave's. He somehow also knew that it was because of the magic that the two boys were unconscious. But considering the dried tear tracks on Merlin's face and the fact he was just as injured as Arthur meant Leon also knew that Merlin hadn't tried to hurt the prince. Whatever had happened with the magic, if it was even Merlin's to begin with, it hadn't been the child's fault. Leon didn't say anything about it to Petra, not being sure how she would take the news that the child had magic. She had either known all of this time and it was part of the reason behind her silence, or she had no idea. Leon couldn't risk her being scared by it and running off into the forest. He knew that knights could be no better than bandits when the thrill of the fight was running through their veins.

His musings only stopped when Merlin let out a soft cry, shifting slightly on the horse. His movement caused Arthur to shift as well, and Leon knew that there was no way he would be able to keep both boys balanced.

"This way." Despite not expecting Petra to answer, Leon felt that it was only polite to inform her of the change in direction before he suddenly did so. Guiding the horse off the main path, he came to a stop in a small clearing and tethered the animal to a low branch. Cursing at how muscular and therefore heavy Arthur now was, Leon awkwardly tipped his prince over his shoulder before lowering him to the floor. He didn't even want to think about how he was going to get him back up again. Merlin was far easier to get down, but Leon found that he was simply biting his lip as he stared down at them.

There were a few bruises and sores on Arthur, the location of most indicating they had been formed from where he had clearly been restrained. The straight bruises across his back made Leon grind his teeth together in fury as he recognised it for a whip mark, but apart from that, the prince seemed otherwise unharmed. The cuts he had sustained in the fight had stopped bleeding now, and Leon was sure that as long as he kept the wounds clean, there would be no complications.

Merlin, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. He was bruised as well, and Leon's experience told him that the deep cut on the boy's arm was not where a weapon had caught him in passing, but where someone had deliberately made that cut. But it wasn't the injuries that gave the knight cause for concern. It was the fact that Merlin looked far thinner than a boy his age should, and his pale complexion indicated that this was something that had been going on for a considerable length of time. Leon couldn't help but wonder whether it was anything to do with the mysterious magic that was the reason why the boy was unconscious, or whether the fight had just been too much for him to handle and his body had had enough. As if knowing that he was being thought about, Merlin groaned again, his face screwed up.

"Do you know this area? Do you know the nearest water source?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Just Leon will do fine. On the back of that horse there are two water pouches. Do you think that you can fill them up for me?" Leon tried his hardest to make sure that it didn't sound as if he was giving an order. If the woman had been a slave, he knew that it was going to take her some time before she began to trust him. But he also knew that he needed to get some fluid into Merlin and to make sure that their cuts were clean. As a Knight of Camelot, Leon knew that he had the right to have his orders followed. It wasn't a power he often exercised, and had been trying to instil the same idea into Arthur. A knight was stronger if he was able to do everything by himself rather than relying on others. Time and the situation were against him this time, however, and he knew that he had no choice.

"Of course, Si.- Leon." Petra almost curtseyed at him, then seemed to catch the look on his face and swiftly straightened up. Without another word, she swiftly fetched the water skins and hurried away. Leon just found himself hoping that she would come back again. As Arthur stirred this time, the knight sighed.

"What have you got yourself into, Sire? I told you to stay in the centre of the camp where it was safe. But no, you had to go to the outskirts, didn't you? You had to go and get yourself taken hostage." There was nothing but fondness in Leon's tone as he brushed Arthur's hair back from his forehead, watching as the teenager seemed to relax under his touch. His breathing was deep and steady, and whilst Leon would have preferred it if Arthur was awake, he was certain that there was nothing truly wrong with the boy. In a way, maybe it was good he was unconscious, for Leon knew Arthur too well. He knew that, given the chance, the prince would have run straight back into the fight. He would have done anything he could to try and prove himself to his father.

"L'n?" The knight jumped, suddenly realising that Arthur's eyes were open and he was gazing at the knight in the utmost confusion.

"Where are we? Where's Merlin? My father… they wanted to kill the king!" Arthur tried to sit up, but Leon only just got his hand onto the prince's shoulder in time to stop him from doing so. Even moving that far caused any colour Arthur had left to drain from his face and for him to let out a groan Leon knew too well.

"If you're going to be sick, let me know so I can move you away from Merlin." Arthur didn't answer, he just seemed to stare at something over Leon's shoulder for a long moment, weaving where he sat. Leon glanced around, but it came as no surprise that there was nothing there. What was more worrying was the way beads of sweat appeared on Arthur's forehead and his next groan almost seemed to be more of a whimper.

"Sire, what's wrong? Arthur!"

"Burns…" Arthur almost choked and Leon was moving before he knew what he was doing. One hand slid behind Arthur's head just as the teenager passed out and Leon carefully guided the young warrior back down to the ground. This time, he let his hand linger on Arthur's forehead and frowned in concern when he felt the temperature that had definitely not been there before.

"What's wrong with you?" Unable to stop himself, Leon turned his attention to Merlin and repeated the same process. Merlin didn't stir, but he was as cold as Arthur was hot. Bewildered, Leon moved them closer together in some attempt at balancing out their temperatures, but heard footsteps coming from behind him before he could do anything else. The prince's mystery illness had him more alert than he had ever been before and his sword was out almost before he finished turning. Petra let out a soft gasp, but Leon was just thankful that she didn't scream and therefore give away their position.

"Sorry." He muttered, flushing slightly at how he had over-reacted. The woman just smiled tightly at him and Leon realised she had probably been threatened with far worse than just a drawn sword during her time with the bandits. Petra simply handed him one of the water skins and bent down next to Merlin with the other.

For a long moment, Leon could only watch as she gently trickled some into his mouth, stroking his throat in order to encourage him to swallow before ripping a piece of her dress off. Soaking it in water, she then unwrapped the makeshift bandage Leon had tied around his arm earlier and carefully began to clean the wound below. It was only then that Leon realised she was humming under her breath as she did so, her movements calming. The knight couldn't help but think that this was not the first time she had been forced to look after Merlin when he hadn't been awake, and it just fuelled the man's anger at what hardships the child must have been put through.

Realising he was staring, Leon cleared his throat self-consciously and bent down next to Arthur. He knew that his movements weren't as soothing and that he was going about it in the way one treated the wounded after a battle, but it was all he knew. Arthur whimpered slightly as Leon cleaned a cut, and then cried out as the knight rolled him onto his stomach so he could get a better look at the whip marks across his back. As he pulled up Arthur's shirt, the prince cried out again, almost seeming to struggle against his mentor.

"Here." Petra had finished with Merlin, Leon's cloak lying over the boy. She moved over, gently taking Arthur by the shoulders. The slave navigated the pair until she was sitting cross legged on the floor, Arthur's head in her lap and her fingers stroking calmingly through his sweaty hair.

"If you are going to check him, now would be a good time." Leon could see the way Arthur was shaking, and knew that when the prince awoke properly, they were going to have to have a long discussion about what was truly going through his head in regards to what had just happened. But before he could do that, he first had to get the prince to wake up. Soaking a rag that he had torn off from his own shirt, Leon carefully wiped it over the inflamed skin. Arthur let out another cry, but Petra held him still, resuming her humming. After a few moments, Arthur completely relaxed against her and Leon knew that he would be able to continue his inspection without fear of hurting the young man.

"Thank you." When he was finally done, Leon fell back on his haunches and let out a long breath. That had been the hardest thing that he had ever done. Not because of the extent of Arthur's injuries – the majority were just superficial surface wounds. It was because this was the boy that Leon had sworn that he would always keep safe, that he would die for even more than his king. To have to be treating Arthur when he was hurt, upset and running a fever was one of Leon's worse nightmares.

"You care for him a great deal."

"You care for Merlin a great deal," Leon shot back, not being sure if the woman was trying to use his brotherly feelings towards Arthur against him or not. She simply smiled, glancing fondly over to where the warlock seemed to be resting far more peacefully than he had been before.

"He gave me a reason to keep fighting for all of this time. He needed me there for him, and so it gave me the strength to focus. Can you understand that, Sir Knight? What it means for a slave to have a reason to keep on living?"

"Yes, I think I can." Leon's voice was soft, but he was gazing steadily at Arthur as he spoke. He did know what it felt like to know someone was relying on you, whether they would admit it or not. He made to move into a more comfortable position when the horse suddenly snorted, pawing at the ground and tossing her head. Leon was on his feet, sword in his hand almost immediately.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Someone is coming. Do you know how to shoot? I would give you my dagger, only Arthur seems to have lost that."

"To defend Merlin I can." There was such a fierce note of protectiveness in Petra's voice that Leon didn't doubt her for a second. Placing his sword down, he grabbed his crossbow and loaded it for her, showing her how to aim and pull the string back to release. She watched in silence, but Leon knew that she had taken everything he had said in. The woman knelt next to Merlin, her body half covering Arthur as well as she braced herself, pointing the weapon in the direction that Leon had indicated the noise was coming from. Hoisting his sword back into his hand, the knight stood poised and ready.

He had failed Arthur once before by not being alert enough to protect him, he was not going to let that happen again. The only blessing was the noise was coming from the east, and he knew the camp lay to the west. But that wasn't enough to make Leon relax, he knew full well how many bandits were in this forest and how easily they could have overtaken them considering the speed Leon had been travelling at. Signalling to Petra to stay down, Leon found that he was carefully calculating what he could make out from the footsteps.

"Put the cloak over both of them, we can't let anyone know who Arthur is." Leon could see out of the corner of his eye that Petra did as he asked without hesitation. She clearly understood that this was not the time nor place to start arguing back, not when the boys' safety was at risk once again.

Without warning, he suddenly sprang forward. Grabbing hold of a man, he dragged him into the clearing, the tip of his sword resting at the base of the man's throat.

"Please! Please don't hurt us, we mean you no harm! We're just passing through. Please…" Leon pushed the man back a step, keeping him at arm's length as he kept the sword where it was. Now that he could get a proper look at the man, he was sure that he knew him from somewhere.

"We? Who else is there? Show yourself!" There was a commanding note in Leon's voice as he kept hold of the man. There was a rustling sound, then a drawn and haggard woman stumbled from the trees, exhaustion making her stumble. Leon found that his sword was lowering ever so slightly. To begin with, it was because they were clearly of no threat to either him, Petra or the boys. With a knight to protect them, no one was getting close to Arthur and Merlin.

But just as with the man, there was something about the woman that Leon recognised. She looked up towards him, at first only seeing his sword before her eyes began to focus on his face. As soon as they did so, however, she gasped.

"Sir Leon? Is that you?" Her gaze darted between Leon and the cloak, clearly recognising that he was hiding something underneath it. For a moment, Leon frowned, his grip on his sword just as tight. But as she brushed a lock of hair back from her face, he found his eyes widening.

"Hunith?!" The slightest hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she nodded. Tears stung at her eyes again, but Leon couldn't work out whether they were relief that they weren't about to be harmed, or something else. Something, he couldn't help but think, that resembled utter heartbreak.

"What are you doing out here?"

"You know these people?" Petra hadn't let the tension in the crossbow relax and Leon noted the way that she had shuffled closer to where Merlin was under the cloak. Suddenly, the look in Hunith's eye made perfect sense and Leon could have kicked himself for not having realised it sooner.

"They're friends. Petra… take the cloak off the boys."

"Are you sure?" Hunith's eyes had widened, and Leon knew that he wasn't mistaking the glimmer of hope that had suddenly flared to life in her eyes. She glanced between the knight and the cloak again, her breathing picking up slightly. Her hand stretched out to the side and her companion moved forward, grasping it tightly and offering her some sort of reassurance.

"Do it."

Petra didn't look convinced, but she did as she was told and began peeling back the cloak. Hunith was already moving forward before anything had been revealed, but when the very top of Merlin's head came into view, she let out a sob. Petra glanced at Leon, and he could see the protectiveness in her eyes. He nodded reassuringly, however, and she drew the rest of the cloak away with a flourish.

"_Merlin!"_

Any relief Leon had felt that no one had yet yelled was immediately shattered as Hunith nothing short of screamed her son's name. Her hand wrenched from the man's – Matthew, if Leon remembered correctly – and she stumbled forward. Leon saw what was happening even before it happened, and it meant that he was able to put his sword down and slide one arm around Hunith's waist as she stumbled in shock as she realised her son was unconscious and injured.

"Petra, it's alright."

"My boy, my baby boy." Hunith pulled herself free of Leon's grip, dropping to her knees next to Merlin and shakily brushing his hair back from his forehead. When Merlin did nothing but turn into the touch slightly, not opening his eyes, Hunith let out a sob. Before anyone could stop her, she had pulled Merlin into a sitting position, cradling her son against her chest and rocking him gently, tears dripping.

"What happened to him? Where was he?" Petra didn't seem to know what to do, and Leon couldn't blame her. It was clear that she had spent months looking after Merlin and trying to keep him safe, and then had a woman pull the boy away from her without an explanation. Leon walked slowly over, crouching down and checking Arthur's temperature as he did so.

"You can relax, Petra. Everything is going to be just fine. Hunith, this is Petra, she's been keeping Merlin safe. Petra, this is Hunith… Merlin's mother." The slave's mouth dropped opened in surprise and she almost made to scramble back a pace, not being sure how to react. Hunith's head shot up and she managed a watery smile at the young woman.

"I'm never going to be able to thank you enough. Where did you find him, Leon? We've been looking for six months, never to find a trace of him. I thought… I thought that I would never ever see him again. Is that… oh my, is that Prince Arthur?"

"Arthur's how we found him. Look, I'm not sure whether we can talk here, I think we are too close to their camp…"

"They won't coming looking for us."

"How can you be sure?" Leon frowned at the certainty in Petra's voice. "I have to keep the prince safe."

"If Jarta wanted Merlin back, then we would already be back there. If we've gone this far, the bandits are no more. Trust me, they wouldn't have let him come this far."

"Not let him? What did they do to him?" Petra glanced at Leon, before looking towards Hunith. The knight wasn't sure what she was about to say, but he had a feeling it was something to do with what he had seen, the colours and glow around the boys when Arthur had pushed the bandit aside. Something, his heart told him, was to do with magic. If Petra opened her mouth, he couldn't pretend not know. But at the same time, Leon knew that betraying Merlin would mean betraying Arthur, and that was something he was never going to do, no matter what he had to go through in order to protect them.

"Hunith… our master… He knew about Merlin's magic from the beginning." Hunith gasped out loud, looking towards Leon. He gave a small smile of reassurance, however, gesturing for Petra to continue. He had a feeling that if he said anything now, Hunith might end up passing out herself.

"He performed a ritual that bound Merlin's power to him. The boy had no control, everything was in Jarta's hands." Without realising what he was doing, Leon found that his hand had come to rest on Petra's shoulder. He too had heard Merlin crying out when he had been bound to that altar, he didn't even want to think about what it had felt like to her to have to watch it happen.

"That's why you haven't been able to find him, Jarta made sure that he concealed himself after other bandits began to show their interest." Hunith gave a small sob, burying her face in Merlin's hair and holding her son almost as close as she could get him. By the look on her face, Leon knew that she wouldn't be letting go any time soon. If what he had heard was true about the time span, he couldn't blame her either. He didn't know what he would do if Arthur had gone missing for six months, those few days were bad enough.

"But he was used as bait for the prince. Jarta found out, don't ask me how, he found out that Merlin had a connection with the young royal. He exploited that to trap Arthur, only it's been backfiring on him ever since. My last night with him, he was muttering something about destiny. And some of the men that came before, they wanted both of them. I think something links the two together."

"Healing him without meaning too." Hunith muttered, her mind clearly lost in a past event.

"What do you mean?"

"When they first met, Arthur was running a fever. Merlin acted without knowing what he was doing, he healed…I mean…he…"

"Hunith, I already know. Don't worry, I will do nothing to endanger your son."

"But the law…the king…"

"You don't live in Camelot's borders." Leon knew that he would only have one chance to explain to the tearful woman that Merlin was as safe now as he would ever be when it came to his magic. Arthur let out a small cry, shifting under the cloak and his knight rested his hand gently on the young man's head.

"Besides, I can't betray him even if I wanted to."

"What do you mean?" Petra's voice was sharp, and Leon had a feeling she knew precisely what Leon was talking about.

"Jarta tried to redo the ritual tonight, didn't he? I saw how Merlin was…" Breaking off, he glanced at Hunith. The woman had gone back to rocking her son, but Leon wasn't sure how much attention she was paying to her surroundings. He didn't want her to know how her child had been strapped down on an altar and cut deliberately.

"I saw how he was positioned, put it that way. Arthur was adamant that he was going to go back for him. He pushed who I assume is Jarta out of the way and he fell. There was this shield over them, explosions of magic taking place within. What? What is it?"

Petra had a hand covering her mouth and she shook her head slowly, tears in her own eyes as Leon had explained what had happened. The knight had a feeling she was just confirming his suspicions, but he needed to know for sure one way or the other.

"This is not good."

"Why? What's happening? What is wrong with my son?"

"Nothing. Only, well, I'm not sure that he has control now either…"

"What has been done to him?"

"Arthur took the place of the spell, didn't he?" Leon didn't even notice that his hand was softly stroking the teenager's hair, trying to remain calm about this. It was his duty as a knight to uphold the law and therefore make sure that anyone with magic was executed. Instead, he had a terrified boy who had just spent the last six months being abused for his powers on his hands. Not only that, but he didn't have control of his own magic.

The Prince of Camelot did.

Petra slowly nodded, and Hunith's eyes went wide. She looked at Arthur properly, as if only just realising quite who was lying next to her son despite her earlier words. Then fear filled eyes turned up to Leon. It was clear that she was asking him what Arthur was going to do. Would he have his young friend executed in order to make sure that he wasn't tainted with it himself? Or was he still young enough to see the innocence and beauty in magic despite what his father had taught him. It was true, Ealdor was not under Camelot's rule. That didn't mean Hunith hadn't been filled with dread each day that Merlin had accidently stumbled across the border and been captured and executed.

Leon, however, shrugged slightly. He wasn't sure himself what Arthur's reaction had been. The young man had been more and more eager to prove himself to his father over the last year, wanted to be seen as a good prince rather than a boy. Would he put his ever increasing duty above Merlin? But at the same time, Leon could still see the look in Arthur's eye when he had refused to run from the bandits because he wanted to go back for the younger boy.

"I think… I think Arthur will keep him safe. He refused to get to safety, he ran straight back into the middle of the camp in order to get to Merlin. Am I right in thinking that he already knew about the magic before I arrived?"

"That's what Jarta used to capture him."

"And yet Arthur still wanted to go back for him… Hunith, Merlin is safe from Arthur, I'm sure of it. If he was going to lash out, he would have done so by now and certainly wouldn't have tried to go back for someone that he would then betray. As for what happens now… is there a way to break the spell?"

"Merlin never found it, but his magic lashed out of its own accord at the end. Maybe it will do the same now?"

"Maybe." Leon could only watch as Hunith continued to rock her son, stroking the back of his head gently and murmuring soft words in his ear. Leon didn't know whether she was trying to wake him up or just trying to reassure him that he was safe. For all the knight knew, she simply wanted to be able to talk to her boy in a way that she hadn't been able to for months.

"Hunith, how far are we from your home?"

"An hour, maybe two. Why?"

"Do you think I can leave Arthur there whilst I make contact with the king?"

"What will you tell him?"

"That I did as ordered and extracted the prince to safety whilst he laid siege to the camp. But that rather than returning within the two days I was supposed to, I wanted to receive aid for Arthur and so will delay our return until he is ready." Leon just hoped that he would be able to deliver the same speech with such conviction when he was actually face to face with Uther Pendragon.

"Wouldn't the king want to make sure that his son his well and safe if he has been missing?"

"Uther isn't that kind of father. He is likely to send Gaius back with me though. I seem to remember that you know him from somewhere before? Is it okay if he comes?"

"I think he might be able to provide some of the answers we are looking for." Hunith murmured, sighing as she held Merlin close. For his part, Leon just told himself that he wasn't going to make the connection between Gaius and magic just yet, he wasn't sure he could handle it.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm so sorry with how late this is - 10 days till big deadline, I've been all over the place!**

The first thing that Merlin noticed was that he was warm. It had been a long time since he had woken up with the heavy weight of a thick blanket over him and cocooning him in the warmth. Unable to stop himself, he simply sighed for a moment and buried deeper into it, letting it soothe away the hurts and aches that he could feel pounding through his body.

"Merlin? He stirred, I'm sure he stirred…" Merlin tried not to whimper at the unknown voice, his breath hitching in his throat slightly. Did that mean another bandit had managed to get hold of him? Or had Jarta's plan worked and the only reason they were keeping him warm was because of the blood loss? Merlin buried further down into the blanket, keeping his eyes firmly closed and trying to pretend that he was still asleep. It didn't help that a stray tear leaked from the corner of his eye, signalling his return to consciousness despite his pretence.

"Leon, move aside, he's not recognising your voice."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just please, go to the prince."

"Petra?" Merlin's voice was a trembling whisper and he kept his head turned away even as his hand groped the air for her. Feeling hers take his, he relaxed. At least no matter what happened, someone would still be on his side. But then the rest of the words began to sink in and Merlin frowned, even with his eyes shut. Go to the prince? Arthur was still here? He was okay? There was something about the name that Merlin recognised, and it brought with it a feeling of safety. Why did he know the name Leon?

"Merlin, open your eyes." Merlin stubbornly shook his head, keeping himself hidden even as the grip on Petra's hand increased. The warm feeling was beginning to work its way into his soul, providing a feeling of being safe, despite not knowing why. Maybe it was just because he knew that he wasn't alone.

"Merlin." There was almost a hint of warning in Petra's voice this time and Merlin knew that he had to obey. If he didn't, something far worse could happen than Petra's disapproval. He had learnt that the hard way within his first few weeks with Jarta from where he simply refused to do as he was told in the hope that he would be allowed to leave. Of course, it had just backfired - with control of his magic, Jarta could make Merlin do anything that he wanted.

Very slowly, the boy cracked open one eye, then another. More tears slipped from them as he felt just how drained he felt. He knew that he didn't have control of his magic, he could feel it. Yet at the same time, there was something different. It didn't feel like the same control compared to when Jarta had taken it. His eyes finally open, Merlin stared at the ceiling above him. It had been a long time since he had seen a proper ceiling compared to the canopy of a tent.

"Where are we?" He whispered, not prepared to come any further out of the blanket than that. Petra's face appeared above him, smiling gently as she brushed the hair from his forehead and tugged down the blanket with her free hand. Merlin almost yelped, making to dive for it, but his surroundings had captured his attention. Even as she moved the blanket away, Merlin was beginning to look around.

The feeling of safety was intensifying the more he took in. He didn't need to be told that nothing was going to happen to him here, he somehow just knew that it was over. His lack of magic implied that there were still some lasting issues that needed to be dealt with, but Merlin knew that he was no longer a slave. He was free.

"Petra?"

"Why don't you tell me, Merlin? You know better than I do, after all." Merlin's heart was pounding hard as he slowly sat up, wincing as he tried to put his weight on his arm and it almost gave way. Looking down, he saw a thick bandage tied around it and swallowed hard, fingering the fabric for a moment. What if he looked around and then realised that he was just dreaming this? He was beginning to realise where he was, but saying it out loud would make the illusion shatter and he would be back in the tent again with no chance of escape. If he pretended not to know, however, the dream might continue.

But then Petra moved and someone was revealed standing behind her. Merlin felt his breath catch at the warm smile on the woman's face as her son's eyes slowly began to focus on her. Hunith made no move to approach Merlin, she knew that he had to come to her in his own time or he might scare too easily. But without saying a word, Merlin climbed to his feet, eyes fixed unblinkingly on her even as Petra made short work of untangling the blanket from around his feet.

"Hello, Merlin."

"M-mother…"

"Welcome home, my boy." Hunith held out her arms and Merlin needed no further invitation than that. With a cry, he almost fell forward, Hunith moving to meet him halfway as he simply collapsed into her arms. The tears that had been trickling down his face swiftly turned into full blown sobs as his mother held him tightly, mumbling apologies over and over again under his breath as he cried.

For a long moment, Hunith simply held onto him, tears in her own eyes at having her boy back in her arms. A look of distress flickered across her face at feeling just how much weight Merlin had lost, not to mention the growth spurt he seemed to have gone through. She just hoped that they had the provisions to properly help him to recover from all of this. But for now, none of that mattered. All she could think about was that her only son was back where he belonged.

Once she knew that he wasn't about to disappear again, Hunith drew back slightly, crouching down so she could look Merlin in the eye. At least, attempt to for Merlin swiftly dropped his gaze. Placing one finger under his chin, Hunith tilted his head up again.

"Stop apologising, my love. None of this is your fault."

"I ran away," Merlin was almost gasping for breath as he tried to control his tears. He wanted his mother to yell at him for being naughty, to tell him that his behaviour had brought everything that had happened onto himself. Seeing this deep understanding and sympathy in her eyes was just making him cry harder.

"I know. But you felt trapped, you wanted to get away."

Merlin let out something that was halfway through a sob and a laugh as he buried himself in his mother's arms again. How ironic was that, he had run away to use his magic in freedom and had found himself more trapped than ever. He knew now why his mother was always warning him to be careful, that it wasn't just men like Uther that he had to fear if they found out his gifts. Hunith somehow navigated them both to the floor so that she could hold her son more comfortably, rocking him gently as Merlin cried.

How long they stayed like that, Merlin had no idea. The sun was high in the sky and bathing the small house in a golden light by the time he pulled back, feeling more exhausted than ever before. At the same time, he also felt lighter. It was as if a whole in his chest had suddenly just been filled in and Merlin began to realise quite how much he had missed his mother.

As his breathing quietened, Hunith stroked his hair softly, not being sure if Merlin was awake or not. The boy smiled against her chest, his eyes flickering as he allowed himself to be held before he suddenly drew back. His head twisted as he searched for Petra, only relaxing when he saw the woman sitting casually across from him. She was in different clothes from before. Merlin knew they weren't his mother's, but he was sure that one of the girls in the village had worn something like that before. He was glad that she was safe. Petra caught him looking and smiled gently.

"Better?" She asked softly, causing Merlin to blush but nod. How many times had she been the one to hold him when he had cried, yet his eyes had never regained the sparkle they had now. Only his mother could ever make him feel like that.

"Are we free?" Merlin felt Hunith stiffen slightly and that was enough of a giveaway for him to know she had been told that her only son had ended up as a slave.

"He's dead."

"Good."

"Merlin…"

"I know." Merlin sighed, sagging back into Hunith at the reprimand in Petra's voice. She had tried so hard to stop him from being twisted by the bandits, to keep him as the innocent little boy he had been all those months ago. While no one could go through that and come out unchanged, she just hoped that Merlin had held onto his positive thinking. Judging by the apologetic look on his face, he hadn't really meant what he had said about Jarta being dead. In a way, Merlin wasn't sure how he felt. The man had made a slave out of him and took his magic, yet Merlin had seen how the other bandits were. He could have been treated a lot worse compared to how he had been, Jarta had always tried to protect him from the more violent men.

"What will you do now?"

"Come, Merlin, you must be hungry." Hunith climbed to her feet, taking Merlin's hand and drawing the boy up after her. They had spoken about this whilst Merlin had been asleep, and it was clear that although Petra didn't know where she was going to go, she wasn't going to stay here. Considering the way Merlin had reacted to her upon awakening, Hunith knew that the boy was not going to like that idea, and the longer they put off telling him, the better.

Merlin nodded enthusiastically, suddenly realising how true that was. He took his mother's hand with a shy smile, still trying to get over the fact that he was actually home and safe. The last six months were almost falling away from him as Hunith led him through to the kitchen and the smell of his favourite soup wafted out to greet him. Merlin found that there were tears stinging his eyes again at the homely smell as he breathed in deeply, trying to tell himself that he was home and he wasn't going to be leaving again anytime soon. As Hunith busied herself with fetching bowls, Merlin suddenly realised how many she was pulling down.

"Where's Arthur?"

He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about his friend before. The last he had seen of the prince, he had been tied to a post and waiting to be sold to whoever would pay the most for him with no chance of a rescue. Hunith didn't respond for a moment and Merlin felt his heart catch in his throat.

"No, where is he? Please, Mother! Where is he?!"

"What the hell are you yelling about?" The drawling voice caused a wide grin to split over Merlin's face and he spun sharply. Looking pale and exhausted, a bruised and bloodied Arthur Pendragon stood leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face.

"You're alive." Merlin breathed, and Arthur's scowl disappeared.

"Guess so. What took you so long to wake up?" Merlin gaped at him, only to then see the teasing grin on Arthur's face. Just as he had been the last time he was in this house, Arthur didn't know how to react. He took a step into the kitchen as Merlin took a step forward, and the warlock almost gasped.

He could feel his magic.

Not in the sense that he had it, but he knew that it was close, it was safe and it was content. His eyes flared gold as he welcomed the feeling, and for a moment, he didn't know whether to be worried that nothing seemed to have happened. But then he locked eyes with Arthur and gasped.

The prince's eyes were also flaring gold.

"What did you do?" Merlin practically demanded, stepping back again. As distance was created between them, the gold dropped first from Arthur's eyes, then from Merlin's. Arthur flinched at the harsh note in Merlin's voice and dropped his gaze, clearly not being sure how to say what had happened. It didn't help that he didn't really know.

"He stopped you from being enslaved to a bandit for the rest of your life." Merlin jumped at the stern voice coming from behind Arthur, and suddenly realised where he knew the name Leon from. How could he forget the knight that Arthur had looked up to so much all those years ago. It was clear by the way the man's hand came to settle on Arthur's shoulder that their relationship hadn't truly changed.

"But…my magic…" Merlin's voice came out as a trembling whisper this time as he tried to think of what was going to happen to him now. Arthur might have promised that he wasn't going to turn him in, but what happened now that Arthur had control over the prince's magic?

"We'll figure something out." Hunith moved behind Merlin, wrapping her arms around him again. "Gaius is on his way, he'll know what to do."

"I just want to be me!" Merlin practically shouted, his distress clear in his voice even as he hid in his mother's arm, sobs shaking his shoulders again. Both Hunith and Leon knew that the reaction was only because he was exhausted, hurt and trying to come to terms with the fact that the hell he had lived in for the last six months was now over.

"I know, love, I know." As Hunith soothed him, Arthur found that he was taking a step back, his eyes wide. Leon shot him a look that was supposed to be one of reassurance, but it did nothing to calm Arthur's racing heart. He had just been trying to help, trying to make sure that Jarta hadn't hurt Merlin. He didn't know about the spell, he had passed out before the magic had announced to the whole camp that it had a new leader.

"Arthur?"

"I…" Arthur didn't see Merlin turn in his mother's grip, a flash of guilt shooting across his face when he saw the expression on Arthur's own. Instead, the prince just turned on his heel and ran out of the door, wondering what on earth was going to happen now.

MMM

"I thought I would find you here."

Arthur jumped. Staying sitting on the log, he turned his upper body in order to face Leon's voice and offered his knight a rueful grin.

"I should have known you would know where to find me."

"You've always turned to natural things to take shelter in, Arthur. Don't ever let that change."

"What do you mean?" Arthur frowned as Leon came to sit down next to him. He was at the top of the hill over-looking Ealdor, sitting on fallen tree almost in the same spot that Merlin had first found him all those years ago. It was peaceful up here, he could get away from the stares that followed him around whenever he set foot out of Hunith's door. He had woken almost three hours before Merlin, not having had the same drain as the younger boy had had. He couldn't describe how he had felt, but knowing that his eyes had changed colour hadn't come as the shock it should have.

He had felt the magic ever since he had woken up. It wasn't unpleasant, more of a weight resting on him that he knew hadn't been there before. He didn't feel powerful or strong, he just felt the responsibility pressing down on him. Somehow he knew what was happening to him even without anyone explaining it. He didn't have magic, he had Merlin's life resting in his hands. He could almost feel the bond between the two of them now, tugging at him to protect the younger boy. Arthur could only assume that Jarta hadn't felt any of this, or he wouldn't have been able to use the young warlock in the way that he did.

"Things that are natural deserve our respect, Arthur." The young prince frowned, watching Leon's face for a clue as to what he was talking about. It took a few moments, but finally Arthur thought he knew where this was going.

"You're talking about magic."

"I know what your father has told you about it."

"And I know what he has made you swear on your oath. Do you think I don't know what this could potentially mean if anyone finds out? Leon, I… I accepted Merlin. I knew before last night that he had magic, it was what they used to catch me in the first place. But it's Merlin, the same boy that helped save my life all those years ago. I had already made my decision."

"You know the consequences of what you are doing?"

"Do you mean do I know that I am committing treason? I'm not a child, Leon."

"Far from it, Sire." There was a hint of respect in Leon's voice that Arthur had never heard before, and he suddenly realised for the first time that Leon wasn't seeing him as a child. Arthur had come to this decision by himself in the worst possible circumstances, and the knight was proud of that.

"So what do I do?" Despite Arthur's claim that he was a man, he sounded young and vulnerable, and found that he was leaning on Leon before he truly realised what he was doing. He had felt out of his depth for this whole ordeal, but now he somehow knew that he had control of Merlin's magic whether he wanted it or not. It was one thing hiding the secret of a friend when they didn't even live in the kingdom. It was something else altogether to be back in Camelot knowing that he had some form of magic himself.

"I'm not sure," Leon admitted, but found that his arm was resting over Arthur's shoulders even as he spoke. "You need to talk to him."

"I don't think he wants to talk to me right now."

"Think, Arthur, you know that isn't true. He has been missing for six months according to his mother. You saw how he has been treated for these six months. This is a lot for him to take in – he's free from slavery but still doesn't have the magic back under his control. You need to talk to him."

"What am I supposed to say?" Arthur whispered, his head resting on Leon's shoulders as he plucked at the bandage on his own arm. He couldn't feel the cut any more, but he knew that it would take a few days to heal. Mainly he just felt exhausted, a deep tiredness settling into his body in a way that he had never felt before. He knew it was just from spending so long chained to a post and being dragged around, not to mention the fear he had felt at knowing he had no way of freeing himself. But even so, Arthur would do anything to be back in Camelot and just to be able to crawl into his bed and sleep for a week.

"You'll know when the time comes."

"I swore to him that we were going to get out, together."

"You kept that promise."

"No, I just bound us together in a way that no one seems to properly understand." Arthur jumped off the log, wincing as his bruised back protested the movement, but still proceeded to pace. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Arthur sighed. His hands rested on his hips as he craned his head back to stare at the sky.

"You didn't mean for this to happen, Sire, you were trying to keep him safe."

"I won't be his jailer, Leon."

"Enough!" Leon rose to his feet as well, and Arthur was unable to stop himself from swallowing as the knight towered above him. "You had his best interests at heart, and you were trying to help. If you had done as you were told, you should have run from that camp without ever going back for Merlin. Do you think that would be a better course of action, to now be with your father and not worrying about this?"

"No! No, I would never have just left him there."

"If you don't regret your actions, you cannot regret the consequences. It's happened, Arthur. If you don't want to be his jailer, then you don't have to be. This has happened, but it is how you now deal with it that will define what happens next. If Merlin doesn't accept that, then I will be having a word with him too."

Arthur stumbled back a pace, biting his lip as he swallowed hard. For a long moment, he could only stare at his knight. Leon looked back steadily, his eyebrows raised slightly. It was that look which made Arthur suddenly realise that the man was seeing straight through him. He knew that Arthur's behaviour was nothing to do with the transfer of the magic or the fact that he didn't know what to do now.

It was because he had been absolutely terrified. As a prince, Arthur had always been told not to show his fear. Leon had a feeling that the young man had managed that, he had never given away to his captors what was going through his head. But just because he hadn't shown it didn't mean that he hadn't been feeling it. This was possibly the only chance he had of expressing it for once the King had arrived, the prince would have to take the position of the boy. Leon sighed, looking at Arthur without blinking.

"You know that I would always come for you, that is never going to change."

Arthur nodded, biting his lip as he swallowed hard.

"I'll be helping Hunith when you're ready. Don't stray too far." Leon turned on his heel and walked off, ignoring the slight sob coming from behind him. Arthur sunk to his knees, hands covering his face as he tried to compose himself. He was a prince, he was supposed to be stronger than this. But at the same time, escaping from the camp was supposed to be the end of it all, not just the beginning of their problems.

When a hand touched his shoulder, Arthur jumped violently.

"It's not that bad, having magic." Arthur hastily stood up, wiping his eyes and sniffing to try and hide the fact that he had been crying. Merlin simply stood there watching him, no trace of judgement in his eyes whatsoever.

"I don't have it, you do."

"Denial won't get you anywhere, Arthur." Merlin moved past him, sitting on the same log that Arthur had been on and staring off into the forest. Arthur was sure that he didn't imagine the shudder that seemed to run through Merlin as he looked into the darkness of the trees, but the prince didn't say anything about it, instead just moving to sit next to him.

"I'm not denying anything."

"You are. You have the magic now."

"No, I don't!"

"Arthur!"

"Merlin, listen to me." With a great deal of effort, Arthur forced his voice to drop to a more reasonable tone. To his delight, it worked. Merlin swallowed hard, giving an odd hiccupping sound as he clearly tried to hold back tears, but he stayed silent.

"You still have the magic. Jarta never used the magic himself, he used you to use the magic. I might have really mucked this up and ended up with that control myself, for which I'm sorry. Please believe that I only wanted to help you, I didn't know this would happen. So maybe it is me that now has that control, but it is still you who has the magic."

"Doesn't make a difference, I can't use it."

"What if I told you to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jarta just forced you to do the things that he wanted, right? So what if I just give you one order, and that is to ignore me and use your magic however you want. Would it work?"

"Why would you want to do that? Don't you understand how powerful I am?"

"So?"

"That's why they were using me, Arthur. To be more powerful than their enemies. Don't you want that?"

"Not in that way. Merlin, I've trained my whole life to be a knight and a king. I have all the power that I want and ways to defeat my enemies. Why would I need you too?" Arthur flinched at how that came out, but Merlin was staring at him, eyes wide in something that could resemble wonder.

"You mean that? You'll let me be free?"

"I never asked for this, Merlin. I swore that I was going to get you out of trouble. I'm not helping you escape from bandits just to take their place, that's not who I am." Arthur ran his hand through his hair, biting his lip. Was he doing the right thing? Was it even possible to do what he was saying?

"You've changed." Merlin's voice was soft and quiet and Arthur blinked.

"Sorry?"

"I seem to have the memory of us arguing over everything and not wanting to share the last time you were here. And now you are going to give up something that would make you stronger than anyone around. You've changed."

"So have you." Arthur mumbled, although he knew that the reasons for Merlin's change were not as positive as his own. But he knew that Merlin now had a strength to him that Arthur would never understand, despite the fact that he was a few years older. Nothing would ever be able to bring Merlin down in this way again, not when he had gone through it and survived at such a young age.

"I'm worried my mother thinks so." Arthur blinked at Merlin's confession, knowing by the way that he was studying his hands that it was something he was truly worried about.

"What do you mean?"

"She keeps looking at me funny, like I'm about to vanish or just break down."

"It's been hard on her as well, Merlin. I imagine she thought you were dead."

"I hated it here." Merlin was definitely avoiding eye contact now. "I wanted a place where I would be free, where people would respect me for what I could do rather than having to hide. Guess no such place exists for someone like me."

"It will. When I'm king." Arthur had no idea where the words came from or when his hand had suddenly landed reassuringly on Merlin's shoulder. All he knew was that it was the right thing to say. He wasn't even Crown Prince yet, he had a few years to go before he was named in front of the whole kingdom as being the sole heir to the throne. But right now, he knew without a doubt that when he was king, he was going to make sure that he gave Merlin the freedom that he wanted.

"Why would you do that? My mother always told me how your father views magic. Why did you accept me?"

"You're the only friend I've got." Arthur's voice was a quiet mumble and he knew that his face was flushing red even as he purposefully avoided Merlin's gaze. His father had told him having friends was having a weakness, whereas Leon had encouraged it. It was just another case of not knowing who to believe, but right now, Arthur believed in his own words more than he had ever done before.

"You too." Merlin whispered, a big smile on his face. Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, Arthur knew that Merlin was avoiding eye contact as well. Hearing voices coming from the bottom of the hill, the prince cleared his throat self-consciously and took a few steps away.

"I think Gaius has arrived. He'll know whether I can order you to be free or not."

"Don't think I'm going to listen to your orders otherwise." Merlin scoffed, standing up as he did so. Arthur rolled his eyes and nudged Merlin's shoulder with his own.

"I am your future King."

"No, you're not, I don't live in Camelot."

"We'll just have to change that." Arthur had no idea what was funny as Merlin started to giggle as they walked down the hill.

"Why?"

"If you're going to be my friend, you have to live in the same kingdom, it's not fair otherwise."

"You could live here." Arthur stared around, his eyes wide as he took in the houses and the fields. Apparently the look of disgust on his face was so obvious that Merlin only had to glance at him before he burst out laughing again. Arthur could barely even pretend to be indignant as he felt the corners of his mouth twitching. Why did he get the feeling that it had been a long time since anyone had truly heard that laugh?

By the time they got into the village, both boys were laughing as if the last few days hadn't just happened.


	11. Chapter 11

**Not quite as late this time! Freedom at last, I've just got everything handed in and am ready for a summer of chilling! Well, a summer of writing anyway... Hope you like this chapter!**

Arthur might have been full of confidence as he strode towards the house, knowing that Gaius was going to make things better without having to worry about being reprimanded about being caught in the first place. But Merlin found that he was dropping back. He barely remembered the old man, knowing that Arthur seeing him as a friend meant that he could be trusted. But he had spent his life hiding his gifts, and now it just seemed as if more and more people were finding out. He had thought that would be a good thing, but now that it was actually happening, he wasn't so sure how much he liked it.

"Merlin?" Arthur had noticed that his friend was dropping behind, and rather than continuing to stride into the house, he stopped and turned. Merlin tried to hitch a smile onto his face, not wanting the older boy to think that he was scared again. But he knew by the look on Arthur's face that his uncertainty was showing. The prince sighed, moving back towards him and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Gaius is going to make everything better, Merlin. He always does. Please, trust me?" Merlin bit his lip. He knew that he could trust Arthur, but he also knew that he didn't really have a choice. Despite what the prince was saying, if Merlin made Arthur angry, he knew that the older boy could potentially just order him to do what it was that he wanted. The last thing Merlin wanted was for Arthur to get angry with him, and he knew that the indecision was shown on his face. Arthur stepped back with a slightly hurt look, and Merlin was suddenly transported back to the night he had been forced to capture the prince. The same look had been on Arthur's face then.

Merlin knew what he had to do. He forced a smile onto his face and nodded.

"I'll trust him then."

"I'm not asking you to trust him. I'm asking you to trust me." As Arthur turned to walk into the house, Merlin felt like he had been punched in the gut. He could almost _feel_ the king that Arthur was going to become, especially if this was how he was already acting while he was still in his teens. Merlin knew that he had absolutely no reason not to trust Arthur. He could vaguely recall the younger prince being scared of his father all those years ago, and yet here he was preparing to commit treason. Merlin knew that Arthur would be implicated as well considering the hold he would have over the magic, but that wasn't why he was going to keep Merlin's secret. He had already promised that before any of this had happened.

Steeling himself, Merlin followed the prince into the house. An elderly man sprang up with far too much energy for a man his age when he saw Arthur come in. Merlin didn't say anything but simply sidled over to his mother's side. She smiled gently down at him, draping her arm around his shoulders and allowing her son to lean against her. Neither of them said anything but just watched as Gaius focused his attention on the prince. Merlin could barely hold back a grin as Gaius simply raised an eyebrow and Arthur shifted uncomfortably.

"Right, shirt off."

"Why?"

"You're standing stiffly, meaning something has happened to your back. Take it off and let me have a proper look, Sire." Despite the formality added onto the end of the sentence, it was more than obvious who was truly in charge here. Arthur sighed, but carefully took hold of the corners of his shirt and dragged it up over his head. Merlin turned his head, burying it in his mother's skirt when he saw the two ugly stripes across Arthur's back from where they had whipped him. Hunith let out a soft gasp, but her hand immediately stroked Merlin's hair reassuringly as she tried to comfort her boy.

"Turn around."

"Gaius…"

"If you argue with me, Arthur, I'll be forced to do things the hard way." The way the two of them were speaking showed that this was an ordinary battle. Merlin wasn't surprised; Arthur was the type to refuse to admit to being hurt even when he needed help. He just found himself wondering what the hard way was in order for Arthur to do as he was told. The prince shuffled around, his head down as he looked at the floor. There was a flush rising up his face and Merlin knew that it was through a mixture of embarrassment and humiliation. They had both been terrified when the blow had been delivered even if Arthur had been able to hide it better. But what Merlin hadn't noticed up until now was the light scattering of bruises over Arthur's torso.

Unbidden, the memory of Arthur being held down on his knees, bound and gagged whilst the bandits assessed him sprang into his mind. He gave a cry, turning completely and clutching onto Hunith. He barely heard the door open before there were soft hands on his shoulders. He was moved from his mother to Petra, but Merlin didn't notice as he continued to hide away and shake.

"Get him out of here." Leon's voice was firm and commanding.

"No." Despite Petra's voice being the opposite, hers seemed to carry more weight. "He needs to be here for this, he needs to know that the prince is relatively unhurt."

But even as Petra held Merlin, Hunith walked across to Arthur. Very gently, she cupped his face, tilting it up to face her rather than looking at the floor. She softly stroked the back of her fingers over his cheek, eyes burning with empathy.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of here, Arthur." Her tone spoke more than her words. Here in Ealdor, just the way he had been before, Arthur was no prince. He was just a young man, still a boy, who had been through more than he could comprehend. Arthur tensed, not seeming to notice that his eyes involuntarily flickered to Leon as he did so.

"You fought as a Knight, I'm proud of you."

That was all it took for a stray tear to suddenly run down Arthur's face. Hunith smiled gently at him, continuing to stroke his cheek as Gaius began to examine the lash marks on Arthur's back. Luckily, it just seemed to be severe bruising so after much prodding – and wincing on Arthur's behalf – he simply rubbed in a foul smell potion and moved on to examine the other small wounds that were littered over the prince's body. Even Merlin hadn't realised quite how many times Arthur had been manhandled as he had been moved from the post into the centre of the camp, and Petra made sure that she kept the child's head turning away. He needed to know that Arthur was going to be fine, not see the various signs of what had happened that were coating his body.

Hunith, however, stayed with Arthur, smiling at him reassuringly every time he made a show of wanting to move away. She remembered the boy from those few years ago, and didn't think that she was ever going to forget the vulnerability in his eyes. He might have grown up and therefore learnt to mask those feelings, but that didn't mean he didn't still have them. She knew that once the King asked for his son back, Arthur would pretend like everything that happened wasn't a big deal. Her heart was telling her to get back to Merlin, but her head argued against her. Petra could soothe Merlin, it was clear that she had been doing so for the last however many months. Yet despite Leon knowing what to say in order to get Arthur to relax, he was still a knight. He wasn't going to offer the comfort that Arthur wanted, even if the prince didn't yet know it.

Arthur stayed relatively still throughout the whole process, but when Gaius came to unbind the bandage around his arm, the prince jerked away.

"It's fine, Leon looked at it." Hunith noticed the way that his eyes immediately flickered to Merlin, worry burning deep within them. Whether Merlin knew what they were talking about, or suddenly just realised that Arthur was watching him, no one was sure. But he twisted in Petra's grip so that he could look at Arthur. Hunith was hard pushed not to cry out at the exhaustion already showing in her boy's eyes, but Merlin was too busy having a silent conversation with Arthur to be paying her much attention.

Even though no words were being said, Hunith could guess what they were discussing. Arthur was trying to ask whether he should let Gaius look at the cut or not, knowing that the physician would move on to examine the younger boy afterwards and realise that Merlin had one in almost the same position. He wasn't asking about the wound though, he was asking about the magic.

"Arthur? You need to let me have a look at this."

"I…"

"That wasn't a request, Sire." Arthur just about bit back a yelp as Gaius seized his arm and made short work of untying the bandage. He didn't say anything, but swiftly cleaned it and rebound the wound. His hand squeezing Arthur's shoulder was the only sign that he gave that he was done, but it was enough for Arthur. He almost sagged, and Hunith quickly put her hand under his elbow to keep him upright. Leon moved forward, taking his other arm.

"Come on, you need sleep."

"M'fine." Hunith didn't even need to ask to know that Arthur's stubbornness had not lessened at all in the few years since she had last seen him. Leon looked like he made to argue, but the prince turned to look at him intently.

"Please? I want to make sure he is okay." He might have dropped his voice in order to make sure that Merlin didn't hear him, but Hunith did and smiled.

"Here." Without saying anything else, she reached over and pushed a stool at Arthur. He looked like he was going to protest, clearly not wanting to be seen as weak, but Leon didn't give him the chance. He simply rested his hand on the prince's shoulder and shoved him down on it. Weakened, Arthur didn't have a chance of staying upright against a fully grown knight, but the reproachful look he shot at Leon just made the man smile. Arthur had grown up, but it was still clear that Leon took his duty of looking after him seriously.

"Now, young man, let's look at you, shall we?" Hunith had always warned Merlin to be careful around strangers, causing the boy to be slightly shyer than other children his age. But he seemed to have a quiet confidence about him that meant she had never truly worried about it before. But as Gaius moved towards him, hand outstretched in order to take a look at the cut on Merlin's arm to begin with, the boy flinched back.

"Merlin, it's okay, love…" Hunith moved towards him as well, but it did nothing to stop Merlin from pressing back against Petra. Her hand tightened on his shoulder almost in reassurance, yet Hunith could see that her son was almost visibly trembling.

"Gaius is a friend, Merlin. You remember him from before? He just wants to make sure that you aren't hurt. You can let him do that, can't you?"

To her surprise, Merlin frantically shook his head, eyes filling with tears as he continued to press back.

"It's fine, Merlin, he won't hurt you. You can trust him." Even Arthur's words did nothing to get through to the clearly frightened warlock, and Hunith gasped when she saw that gold was just beginning to infiltrate his eyes. Arthur suddenly sucked in a sharp breath and it was only Leon's hand on his shoulder that stopped him from pitching off the stool altogether. Merlin's head continued to shake until Petra suddenly took a step back.

No longer was she a comforting force behind Merlin, grounding him and making him aware that he was safe. With that contact gone, the colour drained from Merlin's face for a moment and he seemed to be breathing erratically as he turned. Seeing her still standing there relaxed him a little but as Hunith moved closer so she could see the expression on Merlin's face, she could see that Merlin was frowning in confusion. Whatever Petra was doing, he wasn't sure about it. The woman simply raised her eyebrows at him.

"Your mother told you it was safe, Merlin. You are to listen to her." Hunith wasn't sure if she had ever spoken to her son like that before. She opened her mouth, wanting to make some sort of reproach, but Gaius shook his head, cutting her off. He was watching quizzically as Petra continued to look stern, but slowly, Merlin began to turn back around. He kept his eyes on the floor as he gingerly stretched out his arm towards Gaius, refusing to look at the physician.

"Thank you, young man." Keeping his tone friendly, Gaius dropped to his knees next to him and reached out for him. Petra stepped back away from him again, almost seeming to blow out a long breath. Hunith was still prepared to have a word with her about the way she had spoken to her son when she suddenly became aware of the fact there were tears swimming in the ex-slave's eyes. Petra caught Hunith's gaze and jerked her head to one side.

With one long glance at Merlin, Hunith followed her.

"I apologise, I know what you must be thinking. Merlin… Merlin was never obedient, even when Jarta had complete control over him. Sometimes I was the only one who could get him to listen, mainly because he knew that I wouldn't hurt him. I know that it is important for him to be checked over, but if we were to wait, he might just become more afraid. I just…"

"Wanted what was best for him?" Hunith said gently, her previous annoyance vanishing as quickly as it had come. She smiled, reaching out and touching Petra's arm gently.

"I see the way he reacts to you. He wouldn't have survived this if it wasn't for you. You've brought my boy back to me."

"I just hope that is true." Petra murmured, looking back towards the child. "Don't underestimate the amount of crimes he was forced to commit whilst he was gone."

Seeing the look of alarm on Hunith's face, she pressed on. "Don't worry, he never had to kill anyone, or anything like that. But he was used as a thief for the entire time that he was there, and was constantly under the threat of one of the other bandits taking control of him. He's home, true, but I'm not sure he is back."

"We will get him back, Gaius will know what to do." Hunith wasn't sure if she was trying to convince Petra or herself, but she was watching closely as Gaius finished wrapping up Merlin's arm. Before he tied the bandage off, she watched as he carefully took Merlin's pulse. Once done, he then continued to examine her son before finally giving him a pat on the shoulder and smiling. His eyes, however, spoke a completely different story.

Hunith was moving before she even realised it, gathering Merlin back into her arms and kissing his hair. His earlier exhaustion had been bad enough but having to deal with Gaius as well had taken it out of him. He immediately sagged against his mother, and Hunith knew that if he was awake, he certainly wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings.

"Well?"

"Severely malnourished for a boy of his age. Slight hints of dehydration, numerous bruises in various stages of healing, not to mention the same cuts around his wrists as around Arthur's. He's been shackled lately."

"A few days ago. He tried to help me, they punished him for it. One man… they made him stay still and he just kicked him."

"Arthur…" The distress was clear in Arthur's voice and Leon moved towards his prince. But Arthur didn't seem to pay any attention to the calming hand on his shoulder, his eyes were locked on Merlin. For his part, Merlin still didn't react and Hunith was almost convinced that he had fallen asleep.

"No… He told them to stop, but I know it was simply because he didn't want them to do it in front of me. He was so humiliated by it, and so scared of what was coming and there was nothing I could do to help him. They stopped, only to chain him up for three days without food or water." Arthur's voice was trembling even as Gaius cursed under his breath.

"Can you fetch a bucket of water, my dear?" He asked Petra kindly, causing her to nod and hurry from the house.

"A bucket of water?"

"He needs to get moisture into his body, three days without water should have killed him if it wasn't for… well, he was lucky."

"I couldn't do anything."

"Hunith, as soon as she gets back, you need to wake him up."

"Gaius, leave him rest, surely?"

"He can go back to sleep afterwards, but the sooner we get water into him, the better. Trust me, he will be a lot more lucid the next time he awakens if he can get some liquid into him now."

"I couldn't…" It was only after Gaius had delivered his instructions did he finally turn back to the distraught sounding prince. Arthur's eyes were locked on Merlin almost without blinking, yet he didn't seem to notice that there were tears running down his face.

"Leon, could you fetch me the other bag from my horse please?" Leon knew better than to argue and swiftly disappeared. Hunith didn't know what to do, so just continued to hold Merlin close to her, not liking the idea of having to wake him up now that he had found some sort of peace.

"Arthur, look at me…"

"My fault."

"Arthur Pendragon, look at me right now." Gaius' order reminded Hunith that there were those in Camelot who remembered Arthur's true age. The young man jumped, finally shifting his gaze from Merlin and onto the physician. He swallowed hard, but didn't say anything as tears continued to spill down his cheeks.

"You did all you could." Arthur shook his head, making to look back at Merlin if it wasn't for Gaius cupping his cheek and forcing him to stay looking at the physician.

"You did. And do you know how I know? They are no ordinary cuts on your wrists, that is the sign of someone struggling with everything they have. Not just against the metal of a cuff, but against rope as well. You didn't stop fighting that whole time, and for that your father will be proud. But a mere person can't break free of metal, Arthur, no matter how strong. You knew you had no chance, and yet you continued to help Merlin. He knows this, you have done all you could."

Arthur didn't answer, but did seem to suck in a shuddering breath at Gaius' words. The old man smiled reassuringly at him, but Hunith could see the relief in his eyes when Leon reappeared with the bag. The knight and the physician swapped places while Gaius rummaged around inside.

"What are you looking for?" She made sure to keep her voice quiet, not wanting to disturb either Merlin or allow Arthur to hear her words. Gaius glanced over at his prince before sighing.

"A sleeping draught. He needs to rest, or he'll never come to terms with what has happened. I know there is something he is not telling me, I can see it burning in his eyes. I can't force him, but I need to know what that something is before he faces his father. Otherwise the chances are that the two of them will just come to blows again. Too many times we've now lost Arthur in this part of the forest."

"It's only been twice."

"You think? Tell me, did Merlin ever speak of the prince after their first meeting?"

"All the time." Hunith had a small smile on her face as she fondly stroked Merlin's hair. "He had it all planned out, the adventures they were going to have once he got to Camelot. I guess his own adventure didn't quite turn out the way he had thought it would. Why?"

"He was not the only one. We had to stop bringing Arthur these routes, for he would always try and sneak off. If he could remember the way, I'm sure you would have had him turning up on your doorstep years ago."

"Maybe that would have done Merlin good?" Hunith murmured, but Gaius didn't respond as he finally found what he was looking for. Pulling out a small phial, he turned back to Arthur.

"Sire…"

"No way. I know what that is, Gaius, and I don't need it." As if to try and prove his words, Arthur swiftly wiped his hand across his face to remove the signs of tears, pushing off Leon's hand at the same time and trying to sit up straighter.

"Arthur."

"No! No, I won't take it!" Arthur's distress caused him to raise his voice, almost shouting as he pushed the stool backwards. It was clear that he was not going to be prepared to take it, yet it was also obvious that Gaius wasn't going to give him a choice. One sharp nod to Leon made the knight slip behind Arthur, looping one arm across his chest to hold him still. Gaius moved forward at the same time, and the ease they worked together meant Hunith knew this was not the first time they had been forced to take drastic measures against the young prince.

"NO! I don't want to sleep, Gaius, please."

"Sire, it will help you. Come on, stop fighting me…" Gaius took another step, but before he could go further, the bottle suddenly ripped from his hand. It flew across the room and shattered against the opposite wall. Hunith felt Merlin stiffen in her hold before he slowly sat up, looking over towards the commotion. The confused look on his face told her enough.

That hadn't been Merlin.

That had been Arthur.

The prince had been so desperate to avoid taking the potion that he had accidentally pulled upon his bond with Merlin. The young warlock had somehow felt Arthur's distress and reacted, removing the thing that was unsettling him. But he had no idea it had happened, because it hadn't been him directing his magic.

Gaius took a step back as Arthur's eyes went wide, clearly realising at the same time what had just happened.

"What did you do that for?" Merlin muttered, a surly, annoyed tone in his voice. He didn't sound angry or upset that Arthur had just used his magic, but more irritated that it had woken him up.

"I…" Arthur looked absolutely lost for words, and Hunith knew that this was the first time that he had called upon the magic since being bonded to it.

"So that's what you aren't telling me." Gaius muttered, glancing between the two boys with a slight frown pinching the top of his nose. "This complicates things."

"Merlin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't even know I could…"

"Just stop wishing for things too strongly." Merlin muttered, snuggling back into Hunith and yawning at the same time. The mother smiled, pleased that her son was relaxed enough to not only accept the comfort that she was offering, but was prepared to try and go back to sleep despite the fact that his magic had just been used against his will.

"I can't help it, I just…"

"Arthur, I think you should listen to what Merlin is telling you." Gaius interrupted firmly, and Arthur gulped. His eyes took on a slightly scared note as he stared at Gaius.

"Are you going to tell my father?"

"Are you?"

"No. I promised Merlin that I would keep him safe. Besides, he would have to execute us both."

"You're the one who said that you didn't have magic, you were just using mine." Merlin complained, not looking around this time but continuing to shift as he tried to get himself comfortable. "Make up your mind. He won't execute you if you don't have it."

"I have control of it, that will be enough for him."

"Boys, now is not the time." Hunith made sure she cut them off before they could get into another argument. Her pleading eyes sought out Gaius, but he was still looking shrewdly between them. If she wasn't mistaken, the mother was certain that there was a hint of a smile in his eyes, almost as if this hadn't surprised him as much as it should have. She frowned quizzically, but Gaius just shook his head. Hunith wasn't sure whether it was because he didn't want to say anything in front of the children or just whether he wasn't going to tell her at all. Merlin huffed, relaxing against her again and Arthur too fell silent. Seeing the smile on Leon's face, Hunith didn't need to ask. Why did she get the feeling that there weren't many people who would simply tell Arthur to be quiet? Rather, how many would tell him and then he would obey?

"No, Arthur, I am not going to tell your father." Gaius said gently, returning to Arthur's initial question and trying to get the haunted look out of the prince's eye. "Especially if you aren't going to tell him. But you do realise the complications that this could cause, don't you?"

Arthur mutely nodded, his gaze flickering from Gaius to Merlin, tears in his eyes again.

"Gaius, I don't think now is the time to be discussing this." Hunith said firmly, carefully resting Merlin against the wall as she slipped out from under him. "Arthur, you are going to take one of Gaius' potions because he knows best. Do you understand?"

"But…"

"I said, do you understand?" Arthur fell silent again, but softly nodded. Hunith held out her hand, and Gaius swiftly got another tonic out from his bag and handed it to her. Hunith pulled off the stopper and simply held it out to the prince. Rather than struggling and pulling away, Arthur simply sighed heavily. He took it from her and drained it in one gulp, causing the mother to smile at the face he pulled afterwards. It was lucky that Leon still had hold of him for it worked almost immediately and Arthur sagged backwards. If it wasn't for the knight, he would have fallen off the stool. Merlin shifted as Arthur lost consciousness, opening his eyes to peer blearily at them.

"He really didn't want that."

"Merlin…"

"What do you mean?" Gaius cut through Hunith's reprimand with a kindly tone, causing Merlin to shrug even as he yawned again.

"I could feel it, he doesn't want to sleep." Merlin's voice was casual and soft, as if he had no idea what he was saying. Gaius' eyes widened and he only watched as Merlin shut his eyes again and Arthur was lowered gently to the floor by his knight.

"Merlin can feel what Arthur is feeling?"

"It appears so." Gaius said gravely, the concern shining brightly in his eyes. Petra came back in with the bucket of water, and the physician distracted himself with filling up a goblet and trying to coax Merlin into drinking some. It seemed wrong that Arthur had reacted magically when he hadn't wanted to drink something, and yet Merlin just settled for feebly trying to push Gaius away, claiming that he just wanted to sleep.

"Why is it that trouble always seems to find these two?" Leon's voice was soft, almost amused as he used his cloak to cover the sleeping prince in exactly the same way that he had done all those years ago.

"I suppose that is what happens with two boys like these ones." Hunith responded with a smile, watching with a fond expression as Gaius finally managed to persuade Merlin to drink. She knew the signs, knew by the way he kept blinking slowly that he was trying to keep his eyes open. It was nice to know that even though her son had been missing for all of this time, he still seemed to be her boy. Not that she had dismissed what Petra had said about truly getting Merlin back from this, but while she still knew the tell-tale signs of his behaviour, she had hope.

Gaius finally won and walked over towards them. Judging by the look on his face, he had overheard the last part of their conversation. He shook his head as he slowly eased himself down onto the stool, sighing as he did so.

"It's more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Trouble finds them individually. But when they are together, the trouble that finds them is something that has an effect on everything surrounding them."

"Gaius, what are you talking about?" Even as Hunith voiced her confusion, Leon moved closer to Arthur, running his fingers through his prince's hair and causing Arthur to fall still and peaceful again from where he had been stirring slightly, clearly distressed by something. Gaius sighed again, only this time made no attempt to try and hide the smile on his face.

"Trouble will always find these two simply because it is their destiny."

"Their destiny?!"

Merlin huffed as he fell asleep at exactly the same time as Arthur let out a sigh.

"Their destiny." Gaius repeated, and this time, no one doubted him.


	12. Chapter 12

Both boys slept through the night. In Arthur's case, it was because Gaius' potion simply didn't wear off in time for him to wake up any earlier, not considering his own exhaustion. But Merlin was partly feeling those emotions through Arthur, and partly was just beginning to accept that he could sleep safely without fear of what was going to happen to him while his guard was down. It had all but broken Hunith's heart to see the fear in his eyes as he had finally given in to his exhaustion. Nightmares had jolted him awake more than once, but with his mother's calming voice and touch there, Merlin had swiftly gone back to sleep.

Gaius had claimed that part of the reason why Merlin simply shut his eyes again rather than getting worked up was because he would be able to sense that Arthur was safe and resting nearby. If the prince too had been agitated, then Merlin wouldn't have been able to go back to sleep. Shivers ran down Hunith's spine at the idea of her son now being bonded with the future king of Camelot, despite Arthur's previous promise that he was going to keep Merlin safe from his father. He was still just a child, and she remembered all too well the relationship that Arthur had previously had with his father. Respect had morphed into fear and she didn't want to know what would happen if Uther started pushing for answers.

Gaius had other concerns however. He had heard of a spell like this, although had never heard of it being performed on one so young nor being able to keep it going for six months. It had been Merlin's magic that was fuelling the spell, normally both the caster and the victim died after the original task had been completed. It might have been a sign of just how strong Merlin was going to become, but it meant that there was no way of freeing the two boys from the magic without at least one of them dying in the process. Especially not considering the magic seemed to like being under Arthur's control. Gaius had heard of the prophecy just in the way Jarta had, and he wondered whether the magic was accepting that this was the man it had been created to serve, even if neither of them knew it.

But with the spell being so strong, the fact that it wouldn't fade was proving to be an issue. Arthur had showed how he didn't even need to think about what he was doing in order to pull upon the magic, it just happened without him realising it. Gaius knew that would only strengthen the longer they were bound together, unless Merlin learnt fast how to resist the call. But that in itself caused problems – what if resisting hurt them? Or worse, what if it killed them because the bond was so strong? While the boys had slept, the adults had sat up talking late into the night about what they were going to do to protect the future king and his warlock.

Destiny was beginning, whether they were ready for it or not.

The only solution they could think of was for Arthur to go back to Camelot alone again. Distance should make it harder for Merlin's magic to respond to Arthur's problems, it should weaken the pull between them. If Arthur ordered the magic to listen to Merlin in that time, it was possible the younger boy would be able to just use it of his own free will again and they would never be any the wiser that the link between them now existed.

Yet while it may have made sense, they knew that telling them was going to be just the beginning of their problems. More importantly than destiny, a friendship had formed between the boys. It had begun all those years ago, and only been reinforced through their ordeal because there were now no secrets between them. Considering Arthur spent all his time training to be either a knight or a king and had been told that many only got close to him because of his title, for him to have a friend was a big deal. One who didn't care who he was, but just saw him for the person that he was inside. Likewise for Merlin, he had spent years hiding from the other children in the village, it had been because of their behaviour that he had left in the first place. Although Arthur had begun to grow out of running off to find Merlin, and the younger was beginning to accept that they lived in different places and that was how it had to be, putting them back together would undermine all of that.

They wouldn't want to be split up, of that the adults were sure.

They were right.

Leon had taken Arthur outside, handing him a crude makeshift sword whittled from a branch and began putting him through the normal exercises that the prince was expected to undertake each day. Gaius had been worried that Arthur would still be too tired, but had accepted Leon's point that Arthur was much more likely to accept the news and understand it if he was being physically challenged at the same time. If he just had to concentrate on the problem, then most likely the whole village would be hearing precisely what the prince thought of their solution.

Hunith, however, hadn't been able to distract Merlin in the same way. It unnerved her how jumpy her boy still was and as soon as she had got the words out that Arthur was going to have to go back to Camelot and Merlin stay here, he had fled from the house. Hunith had gone after him, but when Merlin didn't want to be found, he had learnt enough from his time with the bandits how to make himself almost invisible. To begin with, Hunith had freaked, believing that Merlin had run again. Gaius, however, was quick to reassure her that was not the case. If Merlin was distressed enough to run, Arthur would have felt it, and the prince was still happily training with Leon. Merlin was around here somewhere, and Hunith knew that she just had to give her boy some space and let him come back when he was ready.

She was right in thinking that Merlin hadn't gone far. He was just past the house, further into the village but out of sight from his home. He didn't know why he had run, he knew that would most likely worry her again. But being in a house again felt so restricted, he had grown used to being outside the whole time. He felt trapped here, knowing that everyone was watching his reactions closely as if he was about to break every time they said something. If he was honest, Merlin knew that running like that wouldn't have helped matters, but he simply didn't want Arthur to go. The prince didn't look at him like he was weak, he instead had a lingering respect spiralling deep within his eyes. Arthur had seen what Merlin had survived for six months and he didn't judge him for it.

He also knew that because of their new bond, Arthur knew how he was feeling to a certain extent. To have the prince move away again meant that he would have to go back to hiding, having to pretend everything was alright even when his magic was acting up. He knew that he couldn't go to Camelot, it was still forbidden for someone like him to even be alive. But somewhere deep down, when he realised that Arthur had control of his magic, he had hoped that it meant the prince would have to stay here in order for them to both be safe.

He should have known better. He should have known that was just a childish hope, something he thought he had grown out. Jarta hadn't exactly given him the confidence to hold onto the hope that something would get better just because he wanted it to.

"Merlin?" A small, young voice caught his attention and Merlin started. For a moment, he looked around wildly before forcing himself to relax.

"Hello, Will."

"You're back? Where have you been?! Half the village were out looking for you!" The slightly older boy took a step closer and Merlin instantly found himself tensing. Telling himself that this was the boy who he had been closest to before leaving, Merlin tried to keep calm. Will was not Jarta, he was not going to hurt him.

"Your mother has been crying almost every day, never staying here for more than a few hours as she was out looking for you. Do you have any idea what it has been like since you ran away? Nothing like that has ever happened before, she refused to give up on you. Were you really that selfish?!"

Will's voice had risen to a shout and Merlin was aware that people were pausing in their everyday chores in order to glance over at the commotion. Merlin felt a flush working up his face, making him want the ground to just open up and swallow him whole. He hated being in the centre of attention, especially as it normally meant he had done something wrong and Jarta was making sure that he was reminded of his place. Merlin dropped his eyes, studying the ground and trying to remind himself that Will was only a year older, he had no right to make Merlin feel like a child.

"You are, aren't you? You only thought about yourself when you ran…."

"Maybe. But maybe I'm not who I was."

"As if. No one can change just like that. I thought you were my friend, Merlin, then you ran away and left me."

"And I thought you were my friend. So why did I feel like I was the only one that didn't fit in?" Will backed up a step, guilt flickering in his eyes as he seemed to remember what Merlin was getting at. He had claimed to be friends, but then ben so worried about not being picked on himself that he was joining in.

"What would you know about fitting in?"

"A lot more than you." Merlin turned to try and walk off. He was no longer feeling upset; he was feeling angry. He knew that if he stayed here, he would lash out. He had spent too long fighting against Jarta to now take anything without making sure that he had the last word, he knew it was what had kept him alive for the last six months. He dashed a hand across his face in order to get rid of the treacherous tears, but Will caught his arm and spun him back.

"Merlin, I…"

"Go away, Will." There was bitterness in Merlin's voice now, despite being sure that Will had been about to apologise. He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to think that he had accepted it and then be the one that they were throwing mud at again. Especially not because he had the power to protect himself from it all and had to just pretend. He had learnt the hard way not to let anyone know about his power, he now knew and accepted everything his mother had told him about what would happen as being true.

"What makes you think you can tell me what to do?"

"He might not be able to, but I can." Merlin whirled around, his jaw dropping to see Arthur standing there. Leon and Gaius were a few paces behind but letting events unfold however without interfering.

"You again… I remember you."

"I would say that I remember you to, only I don't. Wish I did though, if this is how you treat your friends." As Arthur spoke, Merlin felt a wave of calmness wash through him. Somehow, he knew that it was Arthur doing it. The prince was completely in control of the situation, and the magic was reacting to that feeling. It was settled and content because it knew that it wouldn't be needed. Jarta always had Merlin on edge, not knowing how his own men were about to react. But Arthur knew what he was doing, he didn't need the magic in order to win. Merlin, therefore, no longer felt the need to try and protect himself, and he could feel his body relaxing.

"You can't talk to me like that."

"I can, I don't know you. But you can't talk to Merlin like that, not if you are claiming to be his friend."

"What would you know?"

"William!" Hunith had arrived on the scene, a scolding tone in her voice and her hands resting on her hips. She might also be letting the prince handle the situation, but she had never heard Will be like this. The boy had been devastated when Merlin had disappeared. She could only assume that he too could see the difference in Merlin; the warlock had grown up. Arthur, however, simply blinked coolly.

"I know friends don't turn on each other without warning. I know that they would risk everything for each other, and would protect them with everything that they had. I know that if I were in your situation, I would be so grateful to have a friend like Merlin back again I would forget the fact that you hated he got to have an adventure and you didn't, and just be thankful he has returned." Will flushed, indicating without words that Arthur was correct in more than one point.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Merlin managed a weak smile, knowing that his eyes were still stinging. He should have known he wouldn't be able to just come back and expect things to carry on as if nothing had happened.

"Me too, Will." But rather than staying with Will, Merlin turned and walked over to Arthur. The look the prince shot him was enough for Merlin to nod, indicating that he was fine and he was grateful for Arthur taking control of the situation before he did something that he was going to regret.

"Did you mean what you said about friends?" It was only when they had begun to walk back towards the house and the rest of the villagers had gone back to what they were doing that Merlin had the nerve to pluck up the courage in order to ask Arthur. The prince looked astonished that Merlin even needed to ask before he nodded.

"You were my friend years ago, Merlin. But now… How could you be anything but? You risked everything, knowing what Jarta would do to you if you helped me, yet you still did."

"You did the same. You came back for me."

"Yeah well… don't tell my father that." Merlin huffed a laugh as Arthur blushed slightly. He would keep the prince's secret, but only because Arthur was keeping his. He felt like he had truly just learnt something about being friends – it meant being equals.

MMM

"Arthur, stop moving and just sit there." Merlin let out a giggle that he hastily tried to stifle as he felt Gaius moving behind him. The physician had already cuffed him over the head twice for laughing. Merlin didn't see how it was his fault that the prince was completely incapable of sitting still. Arthur's foot nudged against his, a clear sign that Arthur could feel the way his shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh out loud. Not knowing where Gaius was, Merlin didn't dare kick him back.

It was the following day from the incident with Will. The pair had stayed hidden in the house for the rest of the day, and used the time to simply allow themselves to recover. Merlin had spent the vast majority of the day napping and by the time dawn had arrived again, he felt a lot stronger. It was like he now knew that he was properly home rather than it just being a temporary thing, no doubt helped by a few steady meals and enough fluid. As he regained some of his physical strength, his mind had begun to settle a little and accept that it was over and he was safe. Gaius seemed to notice the difference in him straight away when he had awoken that morning, for he had quickly called Arthur in, thrown everyone else out and stated that he needed to talk to them.

The two boys were sitting cross legged next to each other with their eyes shut in the middle of the house. Gaius was adamant that he was going to help them gain control of what was happening between them. He wanted them to explore with their feelings and their senses. Arthur was to know what the magic felt like and Merlin was to know when Arthur was brushing against his consciousness through the link.

The look of disbelief on both of their faces when Gaius had explained the exercise had caused Leon to swiftly duck from the room, laughter evident in his eyes and causing Arthur to scowl. The prince had tried to follow his knight, yet Gaius had simply reached over and snagged the back of Arthur's collar, not only stopping him from moving but pulling him back into the room as well. It only took a flick of his wrist until Arthur was on the floor, his scowl deeper than ever. Merlin hadn't known whether to laugh or not when Gaius had raised an eyebrow at the prince. When Arthur had finally heaved a long suffering sigh and done as he was told, Merlin had let his giggles escape him.

Naturally, Arthur hadn't been able to let that go and it had been a while until Gaius had finally made himself heard and forced them both to sit on the floor and stop moving. At least, he had managed to get them down there, Arthur seemed incapable of being able to sit still. Merlin would have thought that as a prince and liking things like hunting, he would know how to stay perfectly still when he had to. It was clear that Arthur didn't feel like this was a good enough reason however, fidgeting non-stop. Merlin didn't mind – hopefully it would mean Gaius would end up so annoyed that he just let them go back to messing around in the river as they had been doing beforehand.

"Let down your barriers, let your minds go on a journey…"

This time, Merlin knew it wasn't just him biting his lip. He could feel Arthur shaking next to him and knew that it was because this was sounding as ludicrous to the prince as it was to him.

"Feel each other, know what you are feeling."

Merlin couldn't help himself. He simply burst out laughing, opening his eyes as he did so. Looking up, he saw Gaius watching him with a stern look on his face. It was obvious the physician was about to reprimand him and tell them to try again, but Arthur suddenly let out a long laugh himself.

"I was doing so well until you did that." He spluttered, trying to gain control of himself again.

"Me? You were the one who couldn't sit still."

"But I didn't laugh out loud!" Merlin simply opted for poking his tongue out at the older boy, causing Arthur to grin back even as he rolled his eyes.

"Boys. This won't help you."

"Come on, Gaius, we're never going to feel anything. I don't even know what is going on, and to be honest, that suits me quite well."

"And just what will you do when your father starts asking questions?"

"Tell him the truth. That I simply don't know what is going on. I can't let anything slip if I don't know what is happening."

"Arthur, ignorance is not the way to go."

"Boys, why don't you go outside?" Hunith appeared in the doorway, Petra by her side and causing Merlin's smile to soften as he glanced towards the two women. He nodded and jumped to his feet, racing out of the room with Arthur on his heels. The prince might be almost a man, but he still had the tendencies to let his inner child out when he knew that no one was around to judge what he was doing. As they sped past the adults, Merlin was sure he had heard his mother's last mutter correctly.

"They are boys, Gaius, they aren't going to do something that involves emotions." Merlin laughed again, putting on another burst of speed as he realised that Arthur was directly behind him. It didn't do any good though, Arthur simply lengthened his stride. Echoing Gaius's earlier actions, he grabbed Merlin by the back of the shirt, pulling the younger boy back a few steps and overtaking him with a laugh.

"Hey!" Merlin cried, his hand raising and a shield shimmering into existence in front of Arthur. The prince stumbled straight into it, not being able to move any further. As he turned back to Merlin, the warlock realised that he couldn't go any further either. It was like there was one directly in front of him as well, and looking up, he knew that Arthur's eyes were just as golden as his was.

"I'm not doing that." Arthur quickly muttered, correctly interpreting the look on Merlin's face. The warlock shook his head wildly, pulling the magic in and letting both shields drop. He instantly dropped into a crouch, realising that his hands were shaking.

"Merlin?" Arthur took a step closer, but didn't seem to be sure whether he should approach the child or not. Merlin looked up, blinking as he realised that his eyes were swimming with tears.

"I…"

"I didn't use it, did I? I didn't mean to, Merlin, I swear…" Arthur knelt down next to Merlin, uncertainty etched into his young face as he watched his friend closely.

"I know. I… I did that."

"But I thought..?" Arthur trailed off, clearly not wanting to say the end of his sentence. Merlin knew what he was going to say however, and was just grateful that Arthur had the tact to not just blurt it out loud.

"That it only listened to you, I know. So did I. Arthur… that's the first time I've chosen to use magic and it has responded to me without me feeling it hurt. But I don't understand why there was a shield in front of me as well."

"Because whilst Arthur may channel your magic, the link works both ways. Your magic now acts through Arthur while you are this close together, meaning if you wanted something to happen, the same thing plants itself in his mind. Whatever you want to do with your magic, so does Arthur." Gaius was standing at the end of the corridor, watching them closely. He could tell by their positions that they had both just felt and experienced far more than he was ever going to get them to do sitting in the room. Hunith was right, they were just boys. Letting them discover it by accident was easier than trying to teach them.

"So if Merlin wanted to grow a bush…"

"Two would grow, yes. The magic accepts his want, but takes that to mean it is yours as well. Two minds are telling it to do the same thing, whether you realise it or not."

Both Arthur and Merlin stared at each other, and the warlock didn't know whether he was supposed to laugh or cry.

"But I tried to use my magic with Jarta as well. This never happened then, it was like I couldn't get a hold of it."

"That is because it was imprisoned, under his control. It knows that Arthur wants it to be free, that he doesn't want control over it. So in a way, it is like Arthur has told it to listen to you rather than him. Because of the bond now between you, it is muddled as to who it is supposed to be listening to and therefore listens to you both."

"Woah." Arthur sat back on his haunches, running a hand through his hair and staring at Gaius with eyes as wide as Merlin's. He was amazed that he was even following this conversation at all considering it was about the one thing that he had never been taught about. The only thing Arthur had known about magic only a week ago was that it was something evil that he should strive to eradicate. Now he practically possessed it himself, regardless of what he told Merlin.

"Indeed. Now you see why I'm trying to help you?"

"But I… I use my magic for little things all the time. At least, I did. Gaius, I don't want to stop using it. Jarta showed me what it felt like to have it and not be able to use it, and I can't do that again, I just can't…"

"Hush now, Merlin." Hunith moved forward, crouching down next to the boys and letting her hand rest on her son's shoulder, trying to comfort and ground him. She had no idea what must be going through his mind. In a way, it made it worse that Arthur had never intended for this to happen and didn't want it either. At least when someone had taken control of him on purpose, Merlin had someone to direct his anger and frustration at. Instead, he had a friend who was only trying to save his life have control of the one thing that had been a defining feature of his life so far. Without magic, none of this would have happened. Without magic, Merlin wouldn't be who he was now. Yet Hunith almost wished that he had never been born with magic, that he would just have the chance to be happy and free like any other thirteen year old.

"Gaius? What do we do? There must be some way that I can just give it up again?"

"I'm afraid not, Arthur. Not any way that I know off the top of my head anyway. I'd have to return to Camelot to be able to look into it further, to know whether there is a way this can be undone. And you will have to come with me."

"My father has let me stay here before, why wouldn't he do so now?"

"It's not your father that I'm worried about, Sire. If you come away, the distance might be enough to stop the magic trying to react to your thoughts as well as Merlin's. It will be like the spell never took place, if my understanding is right. If you stay together, however, you will be constantly drawing upon his power without realising it. You have to come away…"

"Wait." Merlin dried his eyes, pushed away his mother's hand and sat up, staring at Gaius. Arthur knew by the expression on his face that he had just come to the same conclusion that Arthur had, and he was no happier about it.

"It will fade with time, right? The magic's need to do as Arthur wishes."

"No, Merlin, it won't." Gaius came closer, hearing the tone in Merlin's voice and understanding the realisation that the pair of them had come to.

"But…"

"You are thinking right. Arthur has to come away, and the pair of you can't be close to each other again."

"No! I'm not letting that happen, Gaius." Arthur stood up, fury in his young eyes. He wasn't going to find his friend just to lose him again.

"Then you are effectively enslaving Merlin."

"No, there has to be another way, I won't let this happen!" Leon appeared in the doorway behind Arthur, drawn by the upset in his prince's voice. Merlin had tears silently running down his face, quietly accepting the fact that this might be the last time he saw the prince he had been determined to find again.

"Gaius, please, there has to be another way."

"Not that I yet know of. Please, Arthur, understand that I will do everything in my power to find a way for this not to be permanent." Gaius met Hunith's eyes over their head and an unspoken message shot between them. The boys were both so young still that if no solution was found, and providing Merlin's magic behaved, it would be as if they had never met. Time would cause them to forget about the destiny that was set in motion too early, and they would never know any different.

"But I don't want to be alone again." Merlin whispered, tears running down his face.

"You won't be." Arthur declared, but Leon moved forward. They knew that stance, knew that it meant Arthur had no desire to back down. Instead, the knight simply took Arthur by the arm and pulled him down the corridor, out of the house and shut the door behind him. They needed some space from each other or they would simply upset each other further.

"You've always trusted Gaius before, Arthur, do so again now."

"But…"

"He won't let you stay apart, not after you running off for years to find Merlin again."

"He's the only friend I've got!"

"I know, Sire. But friends don't have to be with each other the whole time, you could write."

"No." Arthur sighed, looking at the closed door. "It's better if he just forgets that I exist. I'm going back to my father now. Tell him…Nothing. Doesn't matter."

Unable to say goodbye, Arthur leapt at the fence, struggling to untie the reigns of the tethered horse in his haste. Leon simply shook his head, wrapped one arm across Arthur's chest and pulled him away. The prince resisted for a moment, before suddenly sagging against his knight.

"This isn't fair!"

"I know, Sire. Life rarely is, that is a lesson I cannot teach. I'm just sorry you have to discover this now." Not knowing what else to do, Leon simply held the fifteen year old as Arthur struggled to work out how he was supposed to be reacting.

One thing was for sure.

His training had never covered this.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you so much once again for all of the fantastic support. Only one more chapter to go after this one, but I'll come clean and admit there is a third story being planned, so it won't be quite over! :)  
**

**Hope you like this chapter!**

Arthur knew that he hadn't made a sound as he slipped from the house in the dead of the night. Merlin had been asleep next to him, and seeing the frown still present on the younger boy's face caused Arthur's resolve to stiffen. It was because of him that Merlin still didn't have control over his magic. Arthur knew that he had only been trying to help, and he knew that Merlin knew it. But Leon had always tried to teach him that his actions had consequences and that he needed to think before doing anything rash. Arthur hadn't stopped to think for even a second when he had rushed to save Merlin, and now he couldn't help but wonder whether he had made things worse.

He knew that Merlin would never say anything about it. But that didn't mean that he wasn't thinking it, and Arthur couldn't bear looking him in the eye and finding resentment looking back at him. Maybe it wouldn't be for a few years yet, maybe even just a few months. But he was sure that hatred would come as Merlin got older. Arthur knew himself how much he wanted freedom at that age, and Merlin was a captive far more than he had ever been bound by his increasing duties. Rather than make Merlin deny how he was feeling in order to save his own feelings, Arthur knew that he had to leave now, while everyone was still sleeping.

He had truly intended to go when they had found out, Leon stopping him for just long enough for the emotions to catch up with the prince being the only thing that had stopped him from fleeing there and then. But he had been thinking about it as the afternoon wore on and knew what he had to do. If he went when there was no one to stop him, everything would be fine. Leon would figure it out as soon as he woke where Arthur had gone, and if it came to it, he would still probably be close enough for Merlin to sense with their new bond.

There had been a tense moment when he had made to untie one of the horses when he thought that he had been caught out. The beasts seemed restless and simply refused to stand still even when Arthur attempted to soothe them. Knowing that as a knight, Leon was a light sleeper, Arthur had come to a decision. Leaving the horses where they were, he had crept from the house on foot instead. He had gone through years of training now, he knew how to handle himself out in the forest. It would only take him a few hours until he reached his father's camp, especially as the moon was bright enough for him to follow any tracks.

If it had been any other occasion, Arthur would have been the first to admit that he was once again doing something rash. But not this time. This time, the prince had spent hours thinking it through, barely touching his food and not listening to a word that was being said. Thankfully, as Merlin was still so upset at hearing that he would never be able to see the friend he had spent years wanting to meet up with again, both Hunith and Petra were distracted with trying to cheer him up. Arthur knew that Leon had suspected something, his knight always knew when he was up to something. But the knight had still been sleeping peacefully when Arthur had checked on him, and the young man was sure that even Leon wouldn't see this one coming. He wasn't being rash, he was trying to save Merlin. Even if the person he had to save him from was himself this time, Arthur didn't care. He was not going to be responsible for keeping him enslaved.

Arthur travelled steadily, making it up the familiar hill and disappearing into the forestry. He had no idea he was taking the exact same route that Merlin had when he had fled all those months ago, he just knew that the bandits camp had been further down the river that ran through Ealdor to the east. If they were that way – or at least, what was left of them – then Arthur was sure that he would find his father in that direction as well. He wasn't planning on going anywhere near the bandits camp, but was just using that as a general direction to find everyone else.

Being out in the forest on his own made Arthur shiver slightly. Despite immediately telling himself that he was fifteen and therefore far too old for childish fears of the forest in the dark, Arthur knew that he was fooling himself. He had never had much luck when being out on his own when he shouldn't be. Last time he had strayed from Leon's side when he shouldn't have was when Jarta had managed to kidnap him in the first place. Arthur didn't know what else he should have done – even before recognising Merlin he had known that it was a child that was about to be on the receiving end of the bandit's knife, and he had learnt enough as a knight and a prince that he had to protect those weaker than himself. The fact that Merlin had just been the bait and his abductor all in one was irrelevant – Arthur knew now that he would have done the same thing even if he had known about Merlin's magic.

But despite knowing he would always try and go to someone's aid, Arthur couldn't stop another shudder from trembling through his body. His back still stung slightly from where Jarta had whipped him with the belt and there was heavy bruising around his wrists from spending so long bound by either the chains or the ropes. He might be determined to think that he was beyond childish fears, but Arthur knew in the eyes of the dangers out here, he was still just a boy.

Determinedly pushing those thoughts aside, Arthur plunged on through the forest. He knew that if he stayed near the edge, he would be following the course of the river. He had heard it trickling nearby when he had been chained to the pole and knew his way around the forest enough to know what to look for. Still, he found himself wishing that he had managed to bring one of the horses. It was cold out, and he knew what would have been a few hours ride would take him most of the night. He would be lucky if Leon didn't catch up before he even got there. Arthur was determined that his father was going to see him arrive on his own. It would be enough for the king to see his son knew how to take care of himself, that he was ready for his training to be taken to the next step.

Still, Arthur knew he just had to focus on the here and now. There was no point wondering what would happen if Leon caught up with him or how his father would react until one of the things happened. Right now, all was quiet in the forest and the only worry Arthur had was to keep moving before he got too cold. Before he had been walking for too long, however, Arthur stopped.

He was certain he could hear something. It wasn't hooves, meaning there was no way it could be Leon unless the man had been shadowing him from the house. But Arthur knew his knight, knew that there would be no way Leon would have let him come this far without taking him back again. But there could be no denying what he was hearing, there was someone else out here. Arthur swallowed hard, making sure he kept his pace even. He knew that running would mean he would swiftly tire, and slowing down would alert them to the fact that he knew they were there. So instead, Arthur just kept going at the same speed that he had been traveling at, altering direction slightly so that he could begin to make his way to higher ground.

"Well, well, well, look who it is."

Arthur only just bit back a gasp. His hand flew to his waist, only to realise that he didn't have a sword on him. He could do nothing but take a step backwards as Jarta suddenly appeared in front of him. One side of the man's face was bruised and bloodied, his arm held at an awkward angle. But he was very much alive.

Arthur found himself cursing. They had never checked what had happened to the bandit, instead focusing on getting him away from Merlin. Leon wouldn't have checked either, he would have made sure that Arthur was as far away from danger as possible. The prince had been assuming that Jarta would have been rounded up with the others when the rest of his father's men had attacked and if he was honest, he hadn't given it much thought, he had been too preoccupied with discovering he had control over Merlin's magic.

Still, the man was wounded. Arthur knew he wasn't completely defenceless. He lifted his chin defiantly, slowly letting his arms relax and hang by his side. Jarta grinned at the movement, also realising that Arthur was weapon-less.

"Did the little prince forget his lessons? Never to go anywhere unless armed?" Using his good hand, Jarta pulled a knife out and Arthur found himself glad it was dark. Maybe the bandit wouldn't be able to see the fear flickering in his eyes? He took a subtle step backwards, glancing around for anything he could use to defend himself. He could still run, but where was the question. Now he knew Jarta had escaped, Arthur knew there could potentially be more bandits roaming the forest. Enough had seen him at the camp to be able to recognise him now and know how valuable he would be. But he couldn't go back to Ealdor either, there was no way that he was about to lead Jarta straight back to Merlin.

Jarta moved a few steps closer, clearly seeing the indecision on Arthur's face and smirking coldly.

"I played nicely with the boy, I needed him. You have no idea what you are messing with."

"Neither do you if you think you can do anything to harm me and get away with it." Arthur tried to sound how he had heard the king speak, making sure emotion couldn't be heard in his voice in order to betray how he was really feeling. Jarta just chuckled.

"Maybe not if I wanted to hurt you as the prince. But you've taken his magic, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't. But you know, if I were to simply drive this knife into your heart, he would be free. Well, free until I can repeat the ritual again."

"Why can't you just leave him alone?" Arthur didn't realise that he was gradually backing up as Jarta stalked towards him. The man's eyes never left Arthur's face and the prince realised just how insane he was looking. He had had however long controlling extremely powerful magic. Having that ripped away had changed something in Jarta.

"So you do know what I am talking about? You do have his magic."

"No, I…" Arthur froze as a hand came out of nowhere, landing heavily on his shoulder. Before he had time to even turn his head, he was shoved forward. Falling heavily, Arthur only just managed to get his hands out in time to break his fall, looking back to see another man step from the shadows. At Jarta's feet, Arthur knew he was shaking. This was the man who had casually beaten Merlin on Jarta's orders.

Arthur tensed, preparing to spring upwards again. He knew how to fight with his fists as well as his sword. He would not let them either kill him or use him against Merlin. He had promised his friend that he would free them both, and that is what Arthur intended to do. Giving into the bandits would not be keeping that promise.

But what Arthur didn't know, however, was how to fight dirty.

He hadn't even made it into a crouch before a foot collided with his stomach. The force was so great that it flipped him onto his back, driving all the air from his lungs. Arthur gasped, struggling for breath and only vaguely aware of Jarta and the other man moving closer.

"Hold him down, Dantor."

"Sir."

"No…" Arthur hated the way it came out as a pathetic moan. It made him sound like a child, and the prince had been doing all he could in order to prove that he was almost a man. He squirmed backwards along the floor, but didn't make it very far before Dantor was crouched by his head. He took Arthur's wrists in his hands, pulling the boy's arms up and over his head, pinning them down on the ground. Arthur bucked upwards, twisting in the grip, but it took no effort at all on Jarta's behalf to avoid his kicking legs.

In fact, he simply stepped over them and dropped down to his haunches over Arthur. Arthur knew that in this position, nothing he did would touch the man. His hands twisted in Dantor's grip, but he knew that he was no match for the man's strength. The bandits let him struggle for a moment. Jarta grinned and nodded at Dantor, immediately causing the man to tighten his grip and for Arthur to wince.

"Why should I kill you swiftly? You denied me my magic, little princeling. You are of no use to me alive anymore."

Craning his head up, Arthur glared at the man in the way he had seen his father do.

"Go to hell."

Jarta chuckled, lightly drawing his knife over Arthur's chest. It didn't quite break the skin, but Arthur could feel every touch through his shirt. His heart was pounding harder than he had ever felt it before and Arthur knew that he was gasping for breath again. He had to calm down, he was a prince. He would not be a frightened child any longer.

Jarta, however, didn't seem to agree. He watched Arthur bring his breathing back under control for a moment, and then put more pressure on the knife. Arthur gasped as his shirt sliced away at his side and a long, thin cut appeared, blood flooding to the surface.

"Maybe I should take you with me?" Jarta murmured, meeting Dantor's eyes over Arthur's head. The pressure on his wrists increased again and the knife was once more returned to his torso. A few more slices had his shirt in pieces around him on the floor.

A few more slices after that broke Arthur's resolve not to show fear. Only he knew that this time, no one would hear him screaming.

MMM

"Leon! Leon, wake up, you have to wake up!" Merlin was moving almost before he truly registered that he was awake. He sprang up from his pile of blankets, hair mussed and eyes wide as he ran through the house. The knight had heard him on the first shout and was already sitting up. As Merlin almost crashed into him, he swiftly caught the boy's hands and held him still, eyes burning in concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Arthur's gone!" Tears ran down Merlin's face as he pulled against Leon's grip, trying to get towards the door as he spoke. He didn't realise that he was still shouting, his mother slowly making her way into the room while pulling a shawl over her shoulders. Leon cursed and felt alertness crash back into him properly.

"It's okay, Merlin. He won't have got far, I'll find him."

"No, no you don't understand." Merlin tugged against Leon's hold, still struggling to get to the door. "He's hurt! He's being hurt, I think he is dying! Leon, come on!"

"Merlin, stop. What do you mean, Arthur is hurt? How do you know?" Merlin finally fell still, looking up at the knight with wide eyes.

"I don't know. But it was like I could hear him yelling for help. It woke me up, and then I realised that he was gone. Please, Leon, it wasn't just a dream. He's really in trouble."

"Fine." Leon decided not to question it. He knew by the look on Merlin's face that Arthur clearly wasn't in the house anymore. Besides, if he was, there was no way he could sleep through that shouting. It didn't matter whether Merlin was right about him being hurt or not, it was bad enough that Arthur was out there. Grabbing his sword, Leon's hand caught his cloak on his way out of the door, fastening it as he strode towards the horses. In a way, he was glad that Arthur had not taken one. It would make tracking him harder, but would mean he wouldn't have had the time to get any further into the forest.

Before the knight could mount, however, he was aware of a hand tugging at his cloak.

"I'm coming as well."

"Merlin, no. You have to stay here, with your mother. She's only just got you back, you can't come with me." Merlin stared up at the man as Leon gently pulled his hand away and swung himself into the saddle. Even as he made to touch his heels to the mount, Merlin started running. Only, he didn't go back into the house but took off up the hill. Hunith called after him, but Merlin didn't stop running. How else were they going to be able to find Arthur before it was too late if he didn't let his magic guide the way? He just instinctively knew where to go, his magic knowing what direction to travel in to find its new owner.

Hearing thundering hooves behind him, Merlin glanced over his shoulder to see Leon coming at him full speed. Merlin shook his head and tried to make himself go faster. But he was still exhausted from his ordeal and the horse seemed to gain on him in seconds. Merlin thought that Leon was going to cut him off, drive him back towards the house until Hunith could grab hold and not let him go.

What he didn't expect was for the knight to almost shoot past him. Even as the horse drew level with the child, a hand fisted in the back of Merlin's shirt and he was lifted clean off the ground. Before he could so much as yelp in surprise, Leon had managed to get his legs to fall either side of the horse and settled the boy on the saddle in front of him.

"Come on then."

Merlin grinned on realising that he wasn't about to be sent back, but then let his magic take control. He didn't have time to think, he just needed to react on instinct. It had been a very long time since he had let his magic take control, normal he was trying to fight the feeling because he knew that Jarta was using him. This time, however, he knew that there was no choice. If he didn't listen to what his magic was telling him, Arthur was going to die.

"Follow the river!"

"Damn him, he knows that this is the route to the bandit's camp." Merlin swallowed in concern at the worry underlying Leon's tone and unknowingly leant back into the man. The warmth of his body and the pounding of his heart through his shirt made Merlin relax. He knew that Leon was not going to let anything happen to him – to either of them – if he could help it. Leon seemed to notice what Merlin was doing and let go of the reigns with one hand to squeeze Merlin's shoulder reassuringly.

"We'll get him back, I swear."

Merlin simply nodded, believing him without questioning it. They rode in silence for a few moments, Merlin trying not to think about this being the fastest he had ever travelled before. The pull of the magic was getting stronger and stronger, reassuring him that they were going in the right direction. Merlin knew they were getting close, but before he could say anything to Leon, the man suddenly pulled sharply on the reigns and brought the horse to a stop.

"What?" Merlin almost fell off as he tried to twist around in order to see the knight. Leon put one hand on his side to steady him, but jumped off the horse. He had a frown on his face and Merlin did as he was told as the knight motioned for him to stay quiet. The horse nickered and Leon soothed her quietly. It was only then that Merlin realised what Leon was hearing.

Muffled sobs coming from somewhere close by.

Merlin attempted to leap off the horse, knowing it was Arthur. It was only Leon's quick reactions that meant the knight caught him around the chest and lowered him gently to the floor before Merlin fell.

"Keep quiet." He warned, unsheathing his sword and beginning to creep through the trees. Merlin nodded and followed silently, never being more than a pace away from the knight. Just as they made to step into a small clearing, Merlin was unable to stop a gasp from escaping. He knew that Arthur was there, but he also knew that he wasn't alone. Leon glanced back at him and seemed to see enough in Merlin's face to not ask what the boy was sensing. He looked as he was about to tell Merlin to go back when the sob turned into a grunt of pain. Leon wasn't quick enough to stop Merlin from darting into the clearing in front of him.

Merlin had no idea what he was planning to do once he had found Arthur. He didn't even know what he was about to find. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for it to be Jarta and Dantor crouched over a form on the ground. They shifted and Jarta grinned as they faced the newcomer, but Merlin only had eyes for Arthur. Dantor still had hold of his hands, pinning them to the ground. Arthur's shirt was in tatters, one strip being used to gag him. He was covered in blood and Merlin felt his stomach roll at the sight. Arthur was pale, his eyes shut and Merlin hated the way that he barely seemed to be moving.

"Just in time, Merlin. Dantor?" The man nodded, letting go of Arthur and striding towards Merlin. Terror seized the child's mind and he stumbled back a step, almost screaming when he crashed into something and realised that he could go no further. A gentle hand on his shoulder made him realise that it was Leon and he tried to stop himself from trembling. Leon moved swiftly, pushing Merlin behind him and striding forward to meet Dantor. Unable to stop himself, Merlin started edging towards Arthur, keeping an eye on the fight at the same time.

Dantor produced a dagger out of nowhere and tried to lunge towards Leon. It was almost scary how quickly it was over. The trained knight simply held his sword out in front of him and the bandit practically impaled himself. Merlin shut his eyes quickly, his stomach churning with even greater intensity as he heard the sickening thud of the body falling to the ground. He knew even before he looked that Dantor would no longer be able to harm him. His eyes, however, flew open when he felt himself being grabbed from behind.

"Let him go."

"You can take your prince. And I'll take the boy."

"No," Merlin whimpered, trying to pull himself free from Jarta's grip. Leon glanced at where Arthur wasn't moving on the floor and Merlin truly thought that he was about to let Jarta take him so that he could get Arthur to safety. Jarta clearly thought the same, for he smirked and began trying to haul the warlock through the trees.

Only to crash head long into a shield that had erupted from nowhere.

Merlin gasped as he felt his magic calm down again, glancing towards Arthur. The prince hadn't moved, he didn't seem to have the strength. But pain-filled eyes had opened a fraction and Merlin knew that the gold he could see in Arthur's eyes was now reflected in Merlin's. Jarta snarled and tried to go the other way, only to realise a second shield had appeared and Merlin grinned.

Gaius had said that whatever one of them wanted to do, the magic would assume that meant both wanted to do the same thing and so the magic would double itself. It had scared Merlin back in the house, but now he grinned. Jarta was practically trapped, the ritual he had been so desperate to complete now being used against him as the magic responded to both Merlin and Arthur's will.

And they both wanted the same thing.

Upon realising that he seemed to be trapped, Jarta snarled. The arm he had looped around Merlin shifted until he had it around the boy's neck. Merlin gasped, his hands instantly rising as he struggled to get free. Leon took a step forward, but then stopped, not seeming to know what to do. If he came closer, Jarta could hurt Merlin. But he couldn't let the man go anywhere, not seeming to have realised that the magic was stopping him.

"Let him go." There was quiet authority in Leon's voice. Having spent six months as a slave, Merlin found that he wanted to react to that tone. But Jarta just tightened his grip and the warlock choked, his breathing becoming restricted.

"Or what? Take this chance while you can and take your prince. The boy belongs to me, but you can still save him if you move now."

"Don't leave me…" Merlin whispered, not even being sure who he was directing his words at. Some part of it meant it towards Leon, but he knew that he was also talking to Arthur. The prince simply couldn't go and die now, not after everything they had done to get to this point. Arthur didn't react to his words this time, and Merlin wasn't even sure whether the injured teenager was even still conscious.

Somehow, knowing Arthur could potentially be dying made Merlin snap. He grabbed Jarta by the arm, ignoring the way the man chuckled at feeling the child trying to physically push him away. But then the bandit suddenly let go with a howl of pain, stumbling back into the shield. Merlin turned to face him, his eyes burning gold and his hand held out. The fabric of Jarta's sleeve was smoking slightly where Merlin had grabbed him and Merlin knew that his touch was burning the man.

"Why you little…" Jarta snarled in outrage, taking a step towards him again. Merlin's chin jerked out as the magic erupted from him and the bandit didn't even have time to yell before he had been sent flying through the air. The shields dissolved as Jarta passed through them until his flight was eventually stopped as he crashed into a tree. Merlin didn't hesitate, but let the magic fade away as he dropped to his knees by Arthur's side.

"Arthur? Arthur, can you hear me?" Shaking hands made short work of untying the gag and gently moving Arthur's arms until they were resting down by his sides again rather than up over his head.

"You'll pay for this!" Merlin jumped, spinning around as Jarta leapt to his feet and ran at them, a snarl on his face. The magic didn't react this time, Merlin knew it wasn't going to come to his aid and there would be nothing he could do. He tried to scramble backwards across the floor a little, but he didn't even make it a step before Leon had pushed in front of him. Just like Dantor, Jarta practically impaled himself. But this time, Merlin found that he was watching as his previous master collapsed to the floor. He had to see the light leave his eyes, he had to know that he was safe.

"Merlin, do something!" The fear in Leon's voice made Merlin jump. The knight had dropped to his knees, frantically trying to stop Arthur from bleeding. Merlin felt his breath hitch as he stretched a shaky hand towards Arthur. To his surprise, Arthur feebly caught it and pushed it away.

"No…" His voice was barely audible, but Merlin stared at him.

"You'll die if I don't." Merlin felt the shock crashing through him as Arthur smiled, opening his eyes again.

"You'll…be…free…" He whispered and Merlin could only stare.

"You stupid idiot!" He yelled, making to hit Arthur before realising that was a bad idea. "You don't get to choose what happens to me, only I do. So find the will to fight this and tell my magic to heal you!"

Arthur shook his head and Merlin knew that he was crying. He glanced at Leon, who looked as taken aback as Merlin was about what Arthur was saying. There was horror and shock clouding his eyes and Merlin knew that if the bleeding didn't stop, Arthur literally was going to die.

"You're supposed to be my friend! Friends help each other! So help me, you prat, and live!"

He fell back, the tears sliding down his face as Leon squeezed the back of his neck comfortingly. He had so much magic…and he couldn't do anything with it while Arthur was resisting like this. Arthur had his eyes shut, and Merlin had no idea whether the prince had even heard him.

"Please..." Merlin whispered, turning his head away. He couldn't watch this.

But his whisper had done what his shout had not.

The magic flared into life and Merlin heard Leon gasp. He turned back in time to see a golden glow settle over Arthur and he grinned. He didn't understand his magic, but he knew what this meant.

Arthur was going to be fine.


	14. Chapter 14

**Another story finished! :) I cannot thank you enough for the amazing support throughout this, it has truly meant the world to me to hear what you think. Thank you!**

"How are you feeling?" Merlin moved slowly into the room, watching as Arthur opened his eyes to look at him. He had known the older boy hadn't been asleep, he had just been able to feel it. It had still taken quite a lot of effort on his behalf to banish the anger as he addressed the prince. He had never had someone willing to die for him before and the fact that it was someone he cared about just made it so much worse.

He couldn't remember much of what had happened after he had healed Arthur. The prince had passed out. The wounds might have been healed, but he had still lost a lot of blood and the sheer terror he had felt at the situation overwhelmed him. Merlin had been determined that he was going to help Leon help get Arthur back to the house, but he had only taken one step forward before he too had hit the floor. There was nothing wrong with him as such, just the exhaustion of using that much magic while confronting his own worst nightmare had got up with him. For the second time in only a few days, Leon had been forced to walk the horse back with both boys unconscious over her back.

Merlin had awoken as dawn had broken to find a frantic Hunith sitting by his bedside, watching him intently. Merlin had worried that she would have thought that he had tried to run away again, but her reassurances quickly put an end to that as she announced how proud of him she was for going after Arthur and remembering to get Leon first. Merlin didn't talk about the fact he had been face to face with Jarta again and watched the man die this time, and his mother didn't mention it. He was sure she knew, just didn't want to bring up the topic until he did.

Merlin had refused to stay in bed, wanting to know where Arthur was. The prince had still been asleep, but Leon had soothed Merlin's worries by saying how that was the best thing for him right now. For the entire day Arthur dozed on and off, barely having the strength to lift his head, let alone any other part of his body. The scowl on his face made Merlin realise that he hated this weakness, but when Leon told him that he shouldn't have wandered off then, Arthur hadn't complained.

It was then that Merlin realised just how angry he was with Arthur. The prince had been so determined to free the warlock that he had completely disregarded his own safety. While Merlin had been touched that Arthur cared enough to go to those lengths, he had also been angry. Mainly because it had driven home that he still wasn't in control of his own life, that someone else was making the decisions in regards to his magic. Gaius had told him quietly while they had been waiting for Arthur to wake up again that Arthur's hold over the magic would weaken if he returned to Camelot.

For the first time since they had been bonded together, Merlin found that he wanted the royal to go. At least that way, no one could try and use Arthur like that to get to him again, they would have no way of knowing about the link. But it would also mean that the magic was under Merlin's control again – within reason – and he would be able to live his life out normally. Just because the magic wasn't as strong as it had been didn't bother Merlin, it was still better than being stuck as a slave. It would mean for the first time ever, the decision would be in his hands. The realisation that he wanted Arthur to go had hit Merlin hard, but his mother had been there to gather him up and hold him close as he cried. Now that Arthur was awake again, Merlin knew that he had to talk to him.

Arthur shifted under the blankets and gave Merlin a weak smile.

"Better. Can you help me sit up?" Merlin nodded, moving across the room and moving the pillows as Arthur clumsily moved into an upright position before sagging back on them. It was scary how much colour he lost in that one movement and Merlin found that he was chewing his lip anxiously. Arthur caught sight of the action and grinned.

"I'm fine."

"You almost weren't."

"But I am. Don't think about what almost happened, Merlin, think about what did. You saved my life."

"No thanks to you." Merlin retorted sullenly, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting his hands pick at the blanket. "Why did you go out there?"

"I wanted to give you your life back." Arthur avoided Merlin's eyes as he spoke and the warlock blinked in surprise at the sheepish tone in Arthur's voice. He knew Arthur didn't mean that he had gone out there to get himself killed. He had gone out to return to his father, to be taken back to Camelot in order to let his hold over the magic weaken. He had tried to do what Merlin now wanted.

"Why?"

"I want to go home, Merlin. I know we said that we would have found each other again, and now we have this…who knows if we will ever truly be apart again. But this isn't my home any more than Camelot is yours. I'm needed there, and you're not ready to leave again, not after what happened last time. Surely it's better to at least try and see if Gaius' theory works? If the magic weakens, we never have to see each other again if we don't want."

Merlin studied the blanket intently, not wanting to meet Arthur's eyes. He was afraid of how the prince would see him if he agreed too readily. Arthur let out a soft laugh.

"You were already thinking the same, weren't you?"

Merlin shrugged, not wanting to admit that he had been trying to pluck up the courage to tell Arthur he had to go. Silence fell between them, neither boy knowing what to say. Merlin knew that this was going to be a different parting from before. They had been children then, unaware of the dangers that the world could throw at them. Arthur had perhaps been more aware than Merlin, but both knew they were protected. A bond had been formed, but that was it. But this time, they were actively choosing to go separate ways in an attempt to help keep the other safe. They had gone through too much to simply act as if nothing had happened and while that rested heavily between them, Merlin knew they couldn't stay in the same place.

"Where's Leon?" Arthur's quiet voice made Merlin blink as he realised that he had been slowly falling asleep on the edge of the bed while thinking about everything that had once again landed them in the same place.

"He's already ridden for your father's camp. He wants to get you back now. It's going to take them a couple of days before they arrive and Gaius says that you will be okay to ride by then."

Arthur nodded mutely and Merlin stood up. He couldn't bear this awkwardness in the room. Both had risked so much for the other even when they didn't completely understand what they were doing. Small talk was not something they could have any more.

Arthur shut his eyes again as Merlin left, and the warlock wandered through the house aimlessly. It was almost strange being home again after so long of wanting to be here. He could hear his mother just outside talking, and one glance showed that it was Matthew leaning on their face. He didn't know what would happen when he had to face the man after running from him, but Merlin was convinced that his mother would be firmly on his side now. That was for another day, however, for Merlin knew that he wasn't quite ready to face up to what he had done all those months ago.

"Merlin?" The voice made him smile and Merlin turned. He knew that Petra was feeling as out of place as he was, despite the fact that this was his home. She was standing in the kitchen, clearly keeping an eye on something for Hunith, but grinned as he came in.

"How are you feeling?"

"Free," Merlin admitted. It didn't matter that Arthur still had control of his magic, the fact that Jarta had been killed was enough for him to feel like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in months, Merlin felt like a child. More than that, however, he had no desire to change that feeling. He was quite content with feeling young and letting everyone else deal with matters for once.

"I wish I had been there," Petra murmured, turning back to the pot and continuing to stir.

"Why? You were always the one who told me not to think like that, that it wouldn't help."

"I was just trying to protect you, Merlin. You are young, you have your whole life ahead of you. I knew that you would get away, you were always too strong. He knew that, he used to worry about it to me when you were asleep. But I had no way of getting out of there apart from being killed."

"I would have never have gone without you." Merlin told her anxiously, not liking the way that Petra was talking. Her eyes were filled with tears as she spoke and her hand was resting on her stomach. Merlin found his gaze locked on that hand and without meaning to, his magic stretched out. He knew enough of what Jarta had kept Petra around for to no longer be the naïve boy he had been when he left. His magic felt another spark of life in her and Merlin stumbled back, eyes going wide in shock.

"You're having a baby?!" He didn't hear his mother coming in behind him at that very instant, but tears slid down Petra's face as she nodded.

"Merlin, run along and help Matthew." Merlin started in surprise at his mother's voice, opening his mouth to protest when her hand landed on his shoulder. The grip was gentle but firm. But Merlin knew the touch and he almost melted into it. It was her way of saying she expected him to be grown up enough to know to do as he was told without protesting. His mother hadn't given him that look since he had been back, seeming to want to pander to her son's every need rather than enforce the guidelines she had tried to instil before. Realising that this sense of normality was what he had been waiting for, Merlin ran for the door, almost tripping over his shoes as he did so.

Just before he left, Merlin looked back to find his mother had her arms around a sobbing Petra. Knowing a conversation with Matthew was going to be better than that, Merlin left, carefully shutting the door behind him. Matthew hadn't gone back to his own property, but was instead sitting on the edge of theirs. To begin with, Merlin couldn't work out what he was doing until he saw the man bang at the small pole they had been using as a fence in order to try and get it to sit flat.

"Do you need any help?" Even to himself, Merlin's voice came out quiet and unsure. Matthew glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

"Couldn't hand me those reeds there, could you, lad?" Merlin tentatively did as he was asked, only relaxing when Matthew had taken them from him with nothing more than a smile of thanks. Merlin didn't know what he was expecting, but it was as if nothing had changed.

"Matthew, about before…"

"Before doesn't matter now, lad. You are home and your mother has her son back, that is all that matters." Merlin stared at the man, wondering how he could act so calm. Merlin had run away from him, he had used magic to stop the man from following him out into the forest. He knew Matthew well, knew that when it became obvious that Merlin wasn't going to be coming back the man would have blamed himself for not moving quickly enough to stop him.

"What are you doing?" Sitting down next to Matthew, he watched as the farmer began weaving the reeds through the poles.

"Making sure the wind can't just blow it over. Look, if I poke this bit through here and bend it back this way, it stays strong, you see?" Merlin nodded his understanding, biting his lip in concentration as he watched Matthew work. It was completely different to the type of work he had been doing for the last six months. It was about building a home, building a place of safety and ensuring that the outside world could be shut out if it all got too much.

"Now you have a go." Merlin started, not looking sure. As Matthew passed him a reed, Merlin smiled and concentrated hard as he tried to mimic what the man had been doing. It took him a few attempts to get it right, but when he did so, he found himself flushing with success.

"We'll get this done in no time between the two of us." Matthew declared, pulling another pile of reeds towards them and setting to work. He could do five for every one that Merlin managed to bend around, and more often than not, Merlin's then came unravelled. But the child didn't care. He was needed here, just the way the bandits had needed him as well.

Only here, he was loved.

Just as Merlin thought they would have run out of reeds, another pile dropped down next to them. Merlin glanced up to find a tired looking Arthur sliding a knife back into his belt.

"I found them by the river, I hope they are the right type."

"Perfect. Merlin, why don't you show Arthur how it is done?" Merlin made to protest. As a prince, Arthur would never have to sit on the ground and mend a fence. But his protests died when Arthur simply dropped down next to him, folding his legs under him. The prince picked up a reed and looked at Merlin expectantly.

"Well?"

"Like this," moving slowly and checking with Matthew that he was doing it right, Merlin proceeded to show his friend what needed to be done. The three of them worked in companionable silence for the rest of the afternoon. Merlin's yawns and the setting sun finally drove them inside to where Hunith and a calmer Petra were waiting with dinner.

Merlin didn't think he had ever slept as well as he did that night.

MMM

"Now, love, are you sure you have everything?"

"I never had anything to begin with, they didn't let me pack when they took me prisoner."

"Arthur!" Merlin grinned at Leon's reprimand. Arthur suitably blushed but Hunith just smiled at him fondly. Leon had arrived back at dawn, cantering into the village and causing quite a stir despite the early hour of the morning. The boys had been up though, and seeing him come in meant only one thing. The king was only a few hours behind and Arthur would be taken back to Camelot. Breakfast had been a quiet and terse affair. Despite both Merlin and Arthur wanting to get back to their respective lives and move on from what had happened, neither truly wanted to say goodbye to the other.

"Have you saddled the horses, Sire?" Arthur nodded again and Gaius and Leon exchanged looks before heading out of the house. It wasn't often that Arthur would be made to act as if he was just a squire, but both of the men who had had a hand in his upbringing more than his own father knew that the prince had been distracted. Merlin had been kept inside to help his mother and Arthur sent out.

They had both moaned about it, naturally. But it was the casual protest than any boy their respective ages would have made, nothing truly meant by it. To Hunith and Leon, that had been a sign enough that they were once again ready to be parted without anything drastic happening. Keeping them occupied had stopped them both thinking about the magic and therefore stopping it from playing up.

"Are you going to be alright without me?" Arthur asked in concern, looking at Merlin. He made sure to meet the younger boy's eyes in order to know whether he was lying or not, but wasn't even sure if that was needed. As much as the adults might have thought they weren't thinking about the magic, Arthur had found himself exploring part of his mind that he had never noticed before. It was as if a door had been opened, and every time he ventured close to it, he knew that he was sensing Merlin. Judging by the looks that Merlin had been given him over the last day, Arthur had a feeling that he was feeling it as well.

"I managed well enough before you." Merlin responded casually, and Arthur had to bite his tongue. How could he say that he didn't think that was true considering Merlin had ended up enslaved to bandits in front of the boy's mother?

"Are you going to be alright hiding this from your father?" There was true worry in Merlin's voice, and Arthur knew why. All the prince would have to do was slip up slightly and that would be it for the warlock. If it was mentioned that Merlin had been present during the kidnapping, Uther wouldn't hear anything more. Arthur always liked to think of his father as being a fair king, but he wasn't the same naïve boy from before. Even when he had first met Merlin, he had been afraid of the man. A tiny hint of that fear still remained after witnessing more than one person being burnt to death just because a rumour indicated they might have a flicker of magic running through their blood. Arthur had never truly made up his own mind – he knew what his teachings said and what his father told him, but not what he truly thought. Meeting Merlin had changed that. Seeing the most powerful warlock of his age reduced to nothing more than a slave had firmly planted the idea in his head that it wasn't the magic itself that was evil, it was whoever it belonged to that had the potential for evil.

Jarta had that potential. Merlin did not.

Arthur just hoped that he didn't either.

"I'll be fine. I've lied to him about things before." Arthur shrugged, trying to act as if it wasn't a big deal. He knew that his pretence was transparent though, for both Hunith and Merlin gave him concerned looks. Arthur swallowed, hoping that it didn't mean his father could see through his lies that easily. At least with Leon and Gaius not only knowing but being behind him on this as well it meant there was someone to keep the attention away from him. Considering how he had been behaving for the last few years, Arthur didn't think there would ever come the day where he wanted his father to look the other way.

"Not to save someone's life." Arthur swallowed, realising that he was forcing himself to live the same lie that Merlin was forced to live.

"I promise he'll never find out from me." He vowed. It was the only thing he could do. That, and hope that he had the strength to keep that promise even when things got tough. Besides, he wasn't completely sure what his father would do to _him_ if he found out. It wasn't just Merlin he was trying to protect by staying quiet.

To his surprise, Hunith suddenly moved forward and pulled Arthur into a hug. Merlin shifted self-consciously behind them, clearly not knowing quite how to react. Arthur, however, practically melted into it, realising that he had never truly received a motherly hug before. At least, not since he had last been here. Arthur suddenly realised quite how much he was going to miss Ealdor again this time. Every time he came here, he changed.

A softly clearing throat made Hunith pull back and Arthur tried to find a way of wiping his eyes without Merlin seeing. Luckily, the younger boy was distracted by their new comer and let Arthur regain his dignity. Petra stood in the doorway, a small bag over her shoulder. Arthur stepped back and let Hunith go to the other woman, her movement almost forcing Merlin to approach the prince.

"How do you feel?" Merlin's voice was quiet and Arthur knew that he didn't want his mother to overhear. He smiled sheepishly.

"Like it's about to burst out from me without me knowing. You?"

Merlin didn't even need to answer verbally. Arthur could tell by the look on his face that he was feeling the same.

"Are you going to be alright with Petra leaving?" He didn't know precisely what was happening with the other woman, but knew that she was going to try and find her family again. Merlin shrugged.

"This isn't her home."

"What about you?" Arthur hadn't wanted to ask. He knew that Hunith had constantly been watching her son to make sure that he wasn't about to take off in the middle of the night again. It had been almost easy having someone watch him with Arthur, Gaius and Leon around. But now they and Petra were leaving and it would just be the two of them, Arthur had almost watched the worry intensify with each day. Merlin shot him a look as if to say he knew what was going through the prince's mind but then sighed.

"I'm home, Arthur. I know that now. You told me it took weeks for Gaius to get it into your head that you belonged in Camelot when you first returned? Let's just say I've had that same lesson, I know where I belong."

Arthur looked into Merlin's eyes for a long moment before nodding. Not only was the truth and acceptance shining within them, he could also feel through the magic that Merlin was telling the truth. He truly did feel like he belonged here now, and Arthur could ask for nothing more.

"Arthur, they're here."

Arthur swallowed hard at Leon's announcement, but took a deep breath. Merlin nudged his arm against the prince's and Arthur nodded in return. It was time to face the real world again.

"Arthur!" Everyone in the room bowed apart from Arthur as the King of Camelot once again swept into the room, despite it being years since he had last done so. His hands landed on Arthur's shoulders and he gave his son a small shake, staring deep into Arthur's eyes.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, Sire." Arthur made sure that he kept his voice steady and even, but he couldn't stop his eyes from flickering to Merlin as he spoke. The boy shifted on the spot and the prince made sure that he snapped his attention back to his father to stop Uther from looking around.

"You can ride?" Arthur nodded, knowing that his father would want to get away from here as fast as possible. It was entirely possible he didn't even remember this was the same house that he had collected Arthur from all those years ago. Arthur also knew that the man wasn't even being rude by wanting to leave, but that he wanted Arthur back under the protection of armed guards as soon as he could. The man's eyes ran over him, clearly assessing whether Arthur had been telling the truth or not before striding from the room. Knowing that he was expected to follow him, Arthur took a step forward. But before he could take another, Merlin stepped in his way.

"It won't be forever, right?" He muttered softly and the older boy forced himself to grin. Arthur didn't know the answer to Merlin's question, and he didn't want to lie. But he could say what was in his heart and what he believed in.

"No. We'll find a way. I have to go home though, until we can find a way for it not to react." Arthur kept his voice soft and quiet and made sure that he didn't mention specifically what they were talking about. Merlin nodded and stepped to one side.

"Thank you for saving my life." He muttered quietly. His voice was so soft that Arthur nearly missed his words altogether, only just catching them as he was about to leave. He stopped, starting in surprise. They had talked about the magic and Merlin knew what Arthur had done in order to be the one ending up in control, but never had he acknowledged the fact the prince had saved his life.

"Thank you for trying to save mine." Arthur murmured in response, practically fleeing from the house before things could get any more awkward. Leon was mounted, holding the reigns to Arthur's horse casually in one hand and Gaius was saying goodbye to Hunith. Arthur swung himself up in the saddle and his father nodded in approval.

"Move out." Gaius hastily mounted up himself as the horses began moving out. Arthur followed the others, but then reigned the animal back, twisting in the saddle to look back at the small house. This was the second time he had ridden away from here, and he couldn't help but wonder what series of events would bring him back again. In Arthur's mind, there was no doubt that he would be coming back. After all, he had control of Merlin's magic. It was taking a great deal of concentration on both of their parts for Arthur to even be allowed to leave, the magic desire its hosts to stay closer together than they were planning.

Arthur opened his mouth, attempting to call something back to Merlin. But the words lodged in his throat and Arthur instead just swallowed hard. What was he hoping to say? After everything they had just been through, saying a proper goodbye didn't seem like the right thing to do. Instead, he just stared, locking eyes with the warlock and the magic was telling him that Merlin was going through the same struggle.

"Arthur?"

Arthur looked back around at his father's call, nodding softly. With one final glance, he offered Merlin a small smile, turned his horse and quickly trotted after the others. This time, he didn't look back around.

Behind him, Merlin sighed. He knew that Arthur was going this time, that he wouldn't look back. The magic was already threatening to burst from him in order to keep him by his friend's side, and he could feel similar emotions coming from Arthur. They shouldn't make it any harder on themselves than it already was. But watching Arthur ride away made something in Merlin's soul tug in that direction and the warlock shakily leant back on the wall of the house, resisting the urge to simply go running after him. Gaius had said that the magic would settle, but it was so used to being controlled by another in close contact that it was going to take a few hours for it to get used to the idea that Merlin was the one in control again.

If he was honest, Merlin wasn't sure it was going to work. He regained control now that he wasn't close enough to sense what it was that Arthur wanted. It gave him his magic back, but he knew full well that should he ever cross paths with the prince of Camelot again, that magic would instantly react to Arthur and refuse to listen to Merlin until they were out of contact again. Running a hand through his hair, Merlin suddenly realised just how quiet it was.

Arthur was not the only one to have gone. Petra had slipped away while the royals had been leaving. His mother was watching him closely, but Merlin found that he just nodded. He had always known that the woman might have done something like that, it was not in her nature to say goodbye. But now it was just the two of them left and Merlin swallowed awkwardly. It was like they were back at the beginning again, but Merlin knew full well he was not the same boy he had been when he had stood in this support nearly seven months ago.

"I thought we would have stew for supper." Hunith started moving back into the house as she spoke, clearly wanting to give Merlin space. Merlin instantly began to follow her though, not wanting to stay out on his own. He murmured his consent and moved into the kitchen behind her, automatically reaching up to fetch the bowls. There were only two left on their small shelf now, the sheer number of people that had been living under roof meant they could never keep up with keeping the rest of them clean. But Merlin found he was smiling as he leant up to get them down.

This was how it should be. Just the two of them. This time, he had no intention of leaving again. Not until he was much older and ready to explore the world and the adventures it would offer him. But for now, he was more than happy to pass his mother the bowls and watch as she slipped an extra spoonful into his, her eyes and smile warm as she handed it back to him.

Who knew what the future was going to hold?

But Merlin knew that he was home.


End file.
